Dark Layers (Volume 1)
by ALGrayAuthor
Summary: Law graduate Ana attends a scrutinizing interview and meets an enigmatic man who is visually all consuming - he wants to possess her in many ways until he realises how innocent she really is -
1. Chapter 1

_**Dark Layers**_

**(Volume 1)**

**Written by A L Gray**

**Copyright (c) 2014**

**This is a revised edition of Dark Layers - the full Novel of this revised version will be published on Amazon by 9th May 2014**

**NOT THIS VERSION - 1st edition Available on Amazon**

**ebook 87 p**

**paperback £3.50**

**Still to come**

**Dark Layers (Volume 2,3,4) **

**FAN CREATED USING THE NAMES **

**Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele**

**Under no circumstances is this story published for sale **

**using E L James's character names - **

**this is FanFiction material only**

**Real Character Names by A L Gray**

**Elijah Darks - aka - Christian Grey**

**Anile Gooden - aka - Anastasia Steele**

_**Chapter One**_

I GAZE AT MY bedroom chandelier, capturing the glistening blue to purple sparkles in the crystals from the frosty February sun, wondering how the hell I still have not landed a job - I desperately need one if I'm to get my damn father off my case. Although I'm not the strongest person emotionally, and I tend to shrink into myself at times, I have a smart mouth and I over come my weaknesses in the face of a challenge, which usually gives me the upper hand - my friends worship this trait.

My smart mouth and my best friend Sophie were the prompting forces that gave me the willpower I needed to study Law. 'Become Athena in the new world, have the power to penetrate others minds.' Sophie told me.

I have recently finished university, passing my degree with a high grade - but it doesn't seem to be enough. I secretly blame Sophie for making me waste four years of my life - well, she will be on my hit list if I don't land a job soon!

My phone suddenly rings interrupting my line of thoughts - singing, Nancy Wilson, My Love Has No Beginning My Love Has No End. I scramble out of bed and rush through my pile of clean ironed clothes, desperately trying to find my phone on the dresser. Once everything is thrown onto the floor in a chaotic pile, I stare impassively at the screen. Holy shit! It's Darks Lawyers - I applied for an internship there a few weeks ago but I didn't expect a call back.

_Answer before the phone shuts off!_ My conscience snaps.

"Hello, Anastasia Steele , speaking, how can I help you?" I say trying to come across poised.

"Hello, Miss Steele . This is Ms. Prynne, calling from Darks Lawyers. I am calling to invite you to attend an interview today at eleven a.m. I understand that it's short notice but one of the partners saw your Curriculum Vitae and they are looking forward to meeting with you, but they can only make time today."

I like the sound of her voice, she sounds older and wiser than I am; I also sense comfort from her.

"Yes, I will be sure to attend, thank you. Would you like me to arrive early?"

A euphoric sensation fills my tummy - how I landed an interview there is beyond me. My father told me that company is extremely hard to get into.

"Yes, please do arrive early, twenty minutes early if you can. If you could insure you have your Curriculum Vitae at hand, it would be very appreciated. Do you know your way here?"

"Yes, I do, thank you."

"That's brilliant Miss Steele . Once you enter Darks Lawyers, you will see a block of lifts - please take lift number three to the twentieth floor, turn right, and then follow the white hall all the way to the end where you will see a sign for internship interviews."

"Excellent, thank you again and see you soon." I reply but I hang on the line - I don't want to be the one who hangs up first, I think it will seem rude. Once the line finally goes dead, I stand biting my lip in hope that I can land this job. I would finally become a real lawyer; would that make my nasty father proud? Hmmm, probably not.

Darks Lawyers are almost centred in the middle of London, not that far from me. I don't really know much about the company but I'll do a little research on the tube to get the gist of them. This will be my third interview for a law internship and I am desperately hoping this will go better than my first. My first interview with Jurisprudence & Co, was intense, formal and completely discriminating. I don't mind being under pressure but I don't like to be scrutinized in any form. My system emotionally shuts down when I am in the face of a predator - I become bitchy and enter into lawyer mode, and this is usually a problem for me; another personal problem I also need to overcome, alongside finding a job.

I walk out of my bedroom after quickly dressing - knowing time is of the essence - and I check myself in my aging French mirror to be sure I look just right for my interview. I'm wearing a fine black cotton suit with trousers. I think it looks perfect - I just hope they do to. I'm desperately aiming for professional, sangfroid and collected, but I doubt I ooze any of my desired description.

"Oh, this is hopeless!"

I feel too nervous, and I don't want to come across all hair and makeup. Powerful companies like Darks Lawyers prefer their employees to exude dominance and come across influential. I'm angelic looking and skinny like a teenager, but I force my posture into position so I can try to come across enigmatic - I am not sure it works though. I finish quickly applying my makeup, annoyed with my lips as always - they are too thin and force me to overuse lip-gloss which usually ends up all over my chin.

"Just for once, can you go right!" I moan in the mirror.

Upon giving up on my appearance knowing I'm almost out of time, I force my silvery blonde wavy hair back into submission. I confidently grab my bag as I start heading down to the underground with high hopes.

THE WALK TO THE underground is daunting but exciting; I desperately need this job so I can pay my father back for my university and apartment fees, and depend on myself for once. Once I am uncomfortably seated on the smelly overcrowded train, I start searching my IPad for Darks Lawyers, focusing on only the important information. I don't have much time because they are only one tube ride away. I should have done my research before I even applied for the internship and this starts to daunt on me - but it's too late now; I just have to think fast on my feet and hope that I make it through my interview without falling flat on my face. To my surprise, every search engine comes up in repeats of how ruthless the company is and how the company owner - the now retired Mr. Grey - holds a one hundred percent rate in all conviction cases. He's good because he specialises in convicting rapists but he was very high profile and did whatever it took to win a case, whether it meant settling out of court or bargaining. Nearly every blogger names him The Bastard of Law! _Jeez!_ The thought of having him interview me sends formidable shivers down my spine - how would I get through it? Probably by repeating, yes Sir, no Sir, three bags full Sir.

"No, I must remain strong, I must force myself to stay focused and controlled." I admonish myself out loud.

I look up from my IPad. I notice a wrinkly old lady with warm eyes smiling wryly at me. I shrug my shoulders, trying to look sweet but I know I look mentally insane speaking to myself.

The train stops and I quickly barge my way off, as does everyone else, searching for the time. Annoyingly I notice I've arrived early - three quarters of an hour early to be precise. I'm usually late for everything, but I suppose early is better than late. I just hope I don't have too much time to wait around, encase I nervously bite off all my nails and give everyone the chance to see my anxious personality visually! Maybe a coffee will kill some time, and hopefully my mental created tension!

As soon as I step onto Northumberland Avenue, I spot Darks Lawyers with its shiny black and white advertisement sign. Wow, that place looks powerful. It's at sky scraping height and commands most of the buildings here. I shake my head in annoyance because I don't like how it's made from perfectly crafted modern steel, as appose to old fashioned bricks. London will soon look space age and lose all of its old charm.

I swallow hard, collect myself and take my first few steps in, hoping that this will go in my favour. I walk into Darks Lawyers through the huge revolving doors. I spot a small white cafeteria sign and immediately walk in that direction, enjoying the refreshing smell of coffee that lingers in the air, _hmmm_.

I suddenly stop in my tracks as I mentally take note of my surroundings. Holy shit, it's so clinical,; everything is white and art deco plastic; literally everything, including the people! And I jaw-droppingly notice every woman that passes me motionless is brunette; crap, that's not going to go in my favour! The theatres would go nuts if they got just one glance at this place; they would probably use this visual aspect to represent heaven.

I curiously touch the tables as I slowly walk through the cafeteria, wondering how such a vast space can show no sign of a designer or even a personality. A simple picture would do it all the world of a difference. The tables are cold like the amidst air, but soft without any imperfections - possibly like its owner! I giggle to myself. I would love to write my name on one of the tables, just to exude my presence - maybe I will one day, if I land a job here that is.

I take a huge gulp, repressing my instant dislike, and go get a coffee knowing I feel intimidated by the fakeness of the interior.

A very clinical brunette appears at the high counter. She has an astoundingly beautiful smile and wrinkle free cheeks.

"Hello there, what can I get you?" She asks.

I gaze at the small counter top menu, noticing there are too many coffees - who needs ten different coffees on one menu?

"Um, there are so many!" I mutter to myself addressing the brunette.

"Perhaps a latte?" A man asks.

I turn to acknowledge him and I'm forced to gawp at his gorgeous profile - my mouths agape, my eyes are wide. Bloody hell, he's smoking hot! His glowing olive skin reminds me of a man from the Middle East, and perfectly matches the contrast of his long inky black hair. _Hmmm_, I wonder if he's Egyptian? I stare him up and down, stopping at his eyes as I take mental inventory - he has the most unorthodox lagoon blue eyes that purposely undress me. I unknowingly smile thinking I must look like a complete idiot, staring at him like I have never seen a man before.

"What are you smiling at?" He asks curious.

He kindly returns my smile with his own and reveals a perfect set of gleaming white teeth. Wow, he has quintessential laugh wrinkles that almost make me jealous of his girlfriend that I'm not sure even exists!

"Um, nothing," I mutter shy, "yes, a latte will be great, thank you." I reply to the clinical brunette while still beaming at Mr. Blue Eyes.

"Very good. Here on business?" He asks.

My mouth starts to water as I register his dominant deep voice.

"A, an, um, an interview for an intern."

I clench my tummy muscles as I look around nervous. I notice we are holding up the line, but no one bothers to ask us to hurry along. I look back at him. He raises his eyebrows and looks intrigued. Jesus his eyes are gorgeous!

"What time is your interview?"

"Um, eleven."

"What level - do you know your way? People tend to get lost here." He whispers as he leans closer to me, hunching his neck to look down at me.

His arm brushes against mine - a gesture I'm sure he forced. I catch a whiff of his scent. Oh he smells fruity, like a garden of forbidden apples. I have no choice but to bite my lower lip as I try to gather myself, hoping to hide some of my anxiety. He eyes me intently, he's gazing impassively.

"Level twenty, and um, yes, thank you Sir."

"Sir?" He says clipped. His eyes widen. He appears to be holding his breath.

"Sorry, um," I don't carry on, I fear I've offended him.

I look down at the floor, hoping that his eyes will stop judging me.

"Is your interview with Mr. Grey?"

"I hope not, after what I've read up on him!" I reveal joking. I meet his eyes once more. I peer up at him, trying to use my angelic appearance to my advantage.

"And what do the writers of today have to say about him?" He says.

I whisper a one liner thinking it's funny, and in hope that I can create some banter.

"They call him the Bastard of Law; rude I know, and hopefully not true." I say sweetly.

He rolls his eyes looking comical as he digests my joke. He laughs. His voice is so throaty, and deep.

"Good luck, Miss?"

He elongates the 'Miss' hinting for my name.

The brunette passes me my coffee over the counter. He takes it before I have the chance to get my hands on it.

"Anastasia . It's nice to meet you, Mr.?" I say.

He shakes his head, ignoring my request for his name as he passes me the coffee. I take it with jelly fingers. I'm struck with a strange vibe as our skin touches for the first time. I instantly step back from him, wondering what the hell is happening in the air between us as I suddenly find it hard to breathe.

"Be careful not to burn yourself." He says as he turns away from me.

"Put that on my account." He tells the brunette.

I stare him down, hoping he will answer me, but he smiles to himself while shaking his head. He places his huge hands in his pockets and walks off sombrely. I'm left open-mouthed, staring like an idiot as he gracefully floats through the cafeteria. I feel, deflated - how did I not manage to even get his name? I observe his powerful posture while gawping at him. He's so tall, and beautiful - he's also not wearing white, this only now registers. He's wearing a dark grey suit. The expensive material caresses every inch of him.

_See, not everyone here wears white, Steele ! _My conscience snaps sarcastically.

"You're holding everyone up, can you move along please?" Another clinical brunette asks startling me.

"Yes, sorry." I say shrugging my shoulders.

I walk over to a table in a daze, storing my mental inventory of that visually possessing man. I notice it's nearly time for my interview. I abandon my coffee and almost have to run to grab the lift. Once I'm in the cold stainless steel lift, I try to reassure myself while catching my breath.

"You are a strong independent woman who can smash this interview and leave here today with a kick arse job. Stay focused and do not let anyone take the lead." I fail at my praise. That man's lingering in my mind, taking over all other thoughts. I think I can still smell him on me. I slowly lean down and lift my left arm to my nose, stupidly trying to smell it. I laugh to myself thinking I'm a flipping idiot as all I'm hit with is a rush of Chanel No. 5.

The lift pings open on level twenty and thank God Ms. Prynne gave me directions. Literally everything is white; every wall, floor, ceiling - you can barely see the connection between the walls and floors - it's ridiculous! I would definitely have gotten lost. I walk fast through the vast lobby - jumping at my clicking heels as they echo throughout the hall. The translucent interior feels frosty cold. My hands almost feel numb.

Thankfully, after two minutes of searching, I arrive at the reception desk clearly labelled, 'Darks Internship Interviews'. I can see it from at least twenty feet away! Jeez, they like to make a statement in all departments! Only a huge company like this would have a dedicated department for internship interviews - more money than sense if you ask me! _No one asked you!_ My conscience reminds me laughing with her goofy face. I shake her out of my mind and try to collect myself by getting into character, but before I even have the chance, I'm called in.

"Are you Miss Steele ?" Another clinical brunette asks.

As I eye her and her appearance, I'm on the brink of offering her a trip to the hairdressers on me if she just changes her damn hair colour! Honestly, the brunettes mixed with the contrast of white are just too much.

"Yes, that's me." I answer small as I shakily walk towards her.

I hold my hand out to greet her, and she takes it with a feather light grip. She's pretty and around thirty, maybe thirty-five with bright red lips. I bet men fall at her feet, especially when they are met with her angel like smile - I absolutely adore her laugh wrinkles.

"You are just in time; the board are ready for your interview. Please come with me."

I nod in approval and try to come across phlegmatic. I don't think it's working, I appear to be slowly shrinking into myself.

"Please be relaxed Miss Steele . This is just an internship interview, they will be easy on you." She assures me with a warm smile. It calms me a little. I hope they are all as nice as her.

She opens one of the many doors in the huge white hall and gestures for me to go first. I walk into the meeting room torn by how I feel; nervous or sanguine? I shake my head and try to take my mind off my impossible erratic emotions by visually registering the surroundings. The appearance of the meeting room is not so shocking; it's the identical twin to the rest of the building - even the damn blinds are white! Apart from the shiny mahogany meeting table that has glimmers of wood grain, it shows no personality. But one thing stands out, catching my attention and immediately bringing my breathing to a halt. Mr. Blue Eyes is sitting at the head of the meeting table. I freeze at the door. _Holy shit!_

"Miss Steele , you can go in." The brunette whispers into my ear from behind me.

_No please, I don't want the interview!_

I turn to face her, completely crapping myself as I realize, "Ms. Prynne, I've forgotten my Curriculum Vitae!"

"Don't worry Love, I am sure they have a copy." She says with affection.

I feel my face drop as though I am struck with a stroke. I try to look at the other people who are interviewing me, hoping this will make me feel... somewhat better. I walk over the threshold perturbed. There are three men, including Mr. Blue Eyes, and a woman seated - all looking powerful in their crisp white suits that they probably paid too much money for. Everyone to my horror rises to their feet to greet me. This only intimidates me further. Shit! I flush puce and take a huge gulp, which I'm sure everyone heard.

_Get it together Steele !_

As I walk into the lion's den, I solemnly introduce myself.

"Hello, I am Anastasia Goo."

"They know who you are Anastasia ." Mr. Blue Eyes cuts me off.

_Shit!_

I think this is the only curse word left in my vocabulary, because my brain has almost shut down. I don't show a reaction to his rudeness, I smile, insuring it reaches my eyes and I stare at him. I cannot take my eyes off of his beautiful appearance! I'm drawn to him like Aphrodite drawn to Hephaestus. He comes from around the table and holds his hand out to me. I take his grip. When our palms touch, I feel a weird pull, beckoning me to surrender myself to him - what is this? His eyes burn into me, filling my body with a sensation of ecstasy. I feel off balance, maybe I should have taken some Valume today before I left home - I should have known this interview would make me this nervous.

"I am Mr. Christian Grey. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Steele ."

Holy shit! He's checkmated me in the middle of my interview and I'm stupefied as I'm sure everyone has noticed! Mr. Flipping Blue Eyes, is Mr. flipping Grey! Ugh! And I practically called him a Bastard!

"This cannot be happening." I whisper to myself. My conscience has her hand slapped firmly against her face.

Strangely, he doesn't introduce anyone else, he just motions for me to take a seat next to him. I try to move a seat down from him to create some distance because his closeness is overwhelming but he forces.

"Sit here Miss Steele ." He holds his hand out firmly, pointing to the deep mahogany seat next to him, urging my position. I sit down in his desired seat holding his gaze. I notice a smile dancing around his pouted lips. Who's he laughing at? _You, stupid!_

The woman seated at the meeting table opposite us grabs my attention.

"Miss Steele ," she says polite.

I thrash my head in her direction too hard, almost giving myself more of a headache. Thank God! She has my Curriculum Vitae. She kindly passes me a copy and a set of minutes with a warm pitiful smile. I have never had minutes for an interview before but I just go with it and appreciate that she has taken pity on me.

Scarily, Mr. Grey leads the interview. He turns to face me fully. He gracefully slides his chair around. Shit, I feel like I'm on trial! I suddenly feel something hot against my leg. I look down and notice he's leaning his heavy knee against mine, completely catching me off guard - another gesture I'm sure he's forced. He's got to stop that!

"Miss Steele , why do you want to become a lawyer?"

Damn it - all I can think about is his heavy knee and his legs! His legs are so long, they are like Alaskan mountains - powerful and tall, going on forever! Okay, focus, what did he say? Something about why I want to become a lawyer - so he's leading with the most crucial question, what the hell is this? Okay, calm down; this is your chance to shine.

"I enjoy the challenge that is set upon lawyers on a daily basis. I like to test myself and encourage myself, but most of all, I like winning, Mr. Grey." I reply quickly.

He raises his eyebrows and exudes a cook-a-hoop expression. I think I've impressed him. Yes, I think I smashed it! I only wish I could jump up and start cheering for myself as I wear a back breaking smile. _Yes, yes, yes!_

"What was your chosen law subject in your first year of university?" He encourages sarcastically, smiling directly at me.

No, no, no! What does that have to do with my internship?

"Would you prefer to know my speciality throughout my degree, Sir?"

His lips press into a grim hard line - shit, he doesn't like me addressing him as Sir!

"No. I will not repeat myself Anastasia ." He snaps narrowing his eyes at me.

Oh no - I've pissed him off! _You can say that again!_

He's not once looked at anyone else, his eyes are locked on me. I feel as though he's trying to challenge me.

"Marital rape." I say, almost forgetting that we are not the only people in the room. How does he do this, how can he mentally make everyone else disappear? He doesn't answer me, but I hold his gaze. I suddenly hear a sloppy Essex accent pinch at my ear.

"So have you actually ever worked a real case?"

I turn to quickly look at the other men.

Which one spoke? Crap!

"Um, no, Sir." I reply staring between them.

"And yet, you expect us to hire you? Please, I think you are wasting our time, we are not for child's play."

Holy shit! I literally have ice hanging from my fucking ears as the temperature in the room drops to below freezing. Mr. Grey turns away from me and leans his elbows firmly on the meeting table. He eyes the man who was rude to me, he looks ablaze with anger.

"Speak to her like that again and you will find yourself unemployed!"

I stare between the men for a few seconds, blinking rapidly, questioning their body language, and I start to worry I have caused a problem. Jesus Christ, this has to be my worst interview to date!

"Please accept my apology, Mr. Grey." The man mutters.

"Thank you for taking the time out of your day to attend this interview Miss Steele , I understand it was short notice. Ms. Prynne will see you out." Mr. Grey says without looking my way.

I try to reply but my vocal cords are shattered. I'm wide-eyed and astonished. Is the interview over - already? Everyone packs up their papers unaffected, never looking my way. What the hell is going on?

"Miss Steele , this way please." Ms. Prynne asks.

As I start to get up from my seat, I glance over at Mr. Grey, still seated next to me - but he no longer acknowledges my presence. Bastard! I snap in my mind as I get to my feet. Why is he ignoring me? I hold my gaze for more than a few seconds, but he still refuses to look my way, so I storm out of the meeting room absolutely reeling. Ms. Prynne tries to usher me out of the door with her hand at the low of my back, but I walk fast ahead of her. The quiet walk through the white washed lobby is purblind to me; all I can see are mental gray clouds emerging, trying to force me into punishing darkness for my failed attempts. God I'm so pissed off! That arrogant arsewhole! Ms. Prynne to my surprise enters the lift after me. She escorts me down to the ground level. I can't bear to talk, that interview was too little, but also too much at the same time. I wish she didn't follow me. I am no longer Aphrodite, I am now Hephaestus, damned to silence, and I have to stay this way until I exit this building before I burst into tears at my failure. We mirror one another as we walk sombrely out of the lift. Once we reach the revolving doors, Ms. Prynne try's to comfort me.

"I am very sorry about that interview, Miss Steele . I have no idea what happened. Mr. Grey never usually conducts interviews and it was very unlucky that you had to endure that. Please accept my apology on behalf of him."

She's trying to assure me that I was not the problem. I'm not buying her motive but I appreciate her uplifting spirit nonetheless. She smiles at me also, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

"Why did he conduct this interview?" I ask bewildered.

"I honestly have no answer for you. All I can do is wish you good luck on your job hunt."

"Thank you for your kindness." I reply polite as I exit the building.

I walk out trying to hold my head high. This is embarrassing, hurtful and deflating for my ego. As I childishly storm towards the underground, I call my best friend Derek, who I met in university - he will cheer me up, I know it. He studied Psychology while I studied Law but we made sure our chosen subjects didn't get in the way of our friendship. He's the picture of gorgeousness; he's tall, he towers over almost everyone. His face is soft and welcoming. His eyes are watery and sympathetic - his appearance is perfect for his job.

"Derek?" I say when he answers the phone.

"Hey Anastasia , are you okay Darling?"

"No, no, no. I have just had the most scariest and embarrassing interview of my entire life!"

"Oh God, what happened?"

His voice always brings me down to earth; he's caring, loving, and most of all, supportive in all the right ways.

"I met a guy that I mentally named Mr. Blue Eyes while having coffee in Darks Lawyers cafeteria. While ordering a coffee, Mr. Blue Eyes and I started talking, and as a joke, I shamefully labelled Mr. Grey - the owner of Darks Lawyers - a Bastard. Noted this is what all the papers are writing about Mr. Grey. I then walked into my interview, only to be greeted by Mr. Blue Eyes – aka – Mr. Grey himself! He completely played me on the river and then he pulled out a royal flush just to top things off nicely; it was humiliating!"

"Darling, calm down. Don't worry about it. There will be other interviews."

"I know, but you don't understand this man! He was cryptic with his questions; he asked the usual last interview question first, then he asked what my first year subject in university was, and the worst bit, he only asked me two questions! Just two, and then he asked me to leave!"

"Wow, I have to meet this guy, he sounds smart as hell."

"You sound impressed?" I snap.

"I am, Darling. He's genius. I bet he offers you the job."

"Are you trying to comfort me or are you being serious? Because I can't tell."

For the first time ever, Derek is almost annoying me!

"Anastasia , if I know you, I bet you had some pretty smart arse answers that completely blew him away. I know you get nervous at times, but you always pull through. And anyway, don't worry, like I said, there will be other interviews. How about a few drinks tonight? On me."

I think about his offer and wonder if a drink is a smart idea for someone feeling vulnerable?

"Yeah, that really does sound good. I'm on my way home now, so I'll get ready as soon as I get in. I'll call you later and tell you where to come and meet me."

Okay, I gave in too easily, but I need something or someone to rub my bruised ego.

"Okay Sweetie. See you soon."

I hang up feeling a little better; Derek really is such a Sweetie and Mr. Grey really is such a Bastard!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

I GET HOME AND rush to shower and change - I want to go out and forget today has ever happened. Hopefully a few alcoholic drinks will give me amnesia, _please!_ I try to dress in my bedroom - hoping the serine aroma from my flowers that Derek brought me last week will calm me down somewhat, but I'm mentally elsewhere. I'm completely hung on that interview and it's not shifting from my mind. Why do people have to play on an alternative level all the time? Although Mr. Grey came across somewhat arrogant, he really looked intriguing and is absolutely gorgeous. I just wish I knew of a way to disarm him. Once dressed in my over worn jeans, and my cream blazer that annoyingly has too many pockets - I still wonder why I brought it - I get seated at my opulence vanity dresser and try to apply my makeup but find myself in a daze every other few seconds. Maybe I should go back to Darks Lawyers and try to work my magic on Mr. Grey? No, that wouldn't work. Maybe I could send him an e-mail? Hmmm, I cannot do that either, I don't have his e-mail address. Ugh, I need to get over this and move on, another job will come up soon I'm sure, and I will forget about that enigmatic Bastard in no time.

I grab my phone off my bed side cabinet - noting the coffee cup ring that's burnt into the wood. I need to buy some new bedroom furniture, this set really is looking tatty, apart from my vanity unit. I smile fondly remembering my mother buying it for me.

I try to call Derek so we can arrange tonight. Just as I am about to press call, my phone rings with an incoming call. It's CB's Law Firm, I had an interview with them last week. I'm not so nervous about speaking to them, they are not the best law firm, I found them rather amateurish, and I owned that interview.

"Hello, Miss Steele speaking."

"Hello Miss Steele, this is Mr. Townsend's PA from CB's Law Firm, calling regarding your previous interview."

"Thank you for taking the time to call me back. How can I help you?"

"I am calling to offer you the job for the internship you applied for. If you are still seeking the position, you can start Monday."

"Wow! Thank you so much. I'd love to take the job, thank you."

"You are very welcome Miss Steele. I will e-mail you the offer letter and your work schedule. You will start at nine a.m."

"Excellent, thank you again and see you Monday."

"See you Monday Miss Steele."

I hang up and I'm on cloud nine. _Finally!_

"Yes." I shout out triumphant as I spin like a ballerina, endlessly twirling. I quit dancing and try to quickly call Derek with shaky fingers and a dizzy head - I'm desperate to tell him the good news. My phone rings again stopping me, and stupidly, I answer it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Steele. This is Ms. Prynne calling from Darks Lawyers. I have some rather extraordinary news. Mr. Grey is offering you the intern and he wants you to start on Monday."

I don't immediately answer her, the line stays dead while I mentally become Athena. Holy shit! I'm so glad I had this opportunity and I smile with glee.

"Thank you but I already have a job. I was offered to work with CB's Law Firm just minutes ago."

"I see. Well, thank you for your time Miss Steele." She finishes and hangs up rather quickly.

I stare at my phone with wide eyes, completely confused. That was strange. The interview with Darks Lawyers couldn't have gone any worse in my opinion; I was too nervous, and yet, he's offering me the job? I strangely feel glad that I somehow smashed the interview without even realising, but something feels off.

I finally manage to call Derek and we agree where we should meet; The Princess of Prussia Bar – I have no idea why we even had to arrange to go there, we normally spend most of our nights there.

Once I feel ready, I finish over-spraying my perfume – Chanel No 5 - grab my bag, and head out in a daze, trying to understand what's going on. Today has been a whirl wind of events. I need a drink to steady myself.

The bus stop is just a two minute walk from my apartment, but I still walk quickly, I'm desperate to see Derek, he will know what to make of today. Walking through Waterloo, South of the River, I thrive on how busy it is. It's the middle of the day, completely rammed with working class citizens, amongst students, and although the fumes are intoxicating - they make my skin crawl - I overcome this annoying trait every City suffers with as I watch people like me so vividly in love with the city. Once at the bus station, I am again struck with luck as the bus is here waiting. Why can't every day be like this? Minus the blood-curdling interview! I hop on and seat myself next to a lovely lady with her new born child. Smiling to myself between glances of the baby and the streets, I think things suddenly start to sink in - I have been offered two jobs, holy shit, I have been offered two jobs!

"Oh my God!" I say out loud with a face splitting smile.

"Are you okay Miss?" The lady next to me asks worried.

"Um, yes, sorry." I reply embarrassed.

I slowly sink into my blazer and smile to myself while covering my mouth. This is epic, and unbelievable!

Once I arrive on Prescot Street, I almost fall off of the bus as I try to rush to the bar hoping Derek will be there waiting for me.

"Steady on." The bus driver chants while laughing.

"Thanks." I say laughing to myself.

I manage to make it to the bar without another stumble. As soon as I push the door open, I'm hit with a strong smell of beer and musky carpets because the bar is empty and there are no people to mask the stench. Although I like beer - I drink it most of the time - this is extremely off putting. I perch myself up at the bar, admiring a joiners handy work. It must take forever to carve something of this magnitude, with all its perfectly crafted corners and Princess of Prussia symbols, prompting people to notice its elegance - and the final touch, matt polished earth brown to compliment the rest of the bar. It really is a gorgeous place and absolutely oozes old London charm - I just wish they would invest in some air fresheners and maybe open the curtains so we are not soaked in shadows of the darkness.

I stare up at the clock upon the bar, it looks grander then Big Ben - Derek must be running late. I order a large glass of wine to get started on the night to come while I wait for him.

"Rough day?" The bar tender, Jake, asks as he passes me my drink.

"You have no idea, rough and unbelievable."

"Wanner talk about it?"

"No, I don't want to bore you to death." I joke.

My phone pings and my tummy has joined the Cirque De Soleil, swishing and swaying with excitement. I have an e-mail and I know it's from CB's Law Firm. I quickly open it and I have to do a double take as I read it, _oh no!_

From: CB's Law Firm

Date: 29/02/2012

Subject: Job Offer

To Miss Steele.

I am filled with regret to inform you that we have retracted the offer of your internship position. Your referee did not turn out as stated on your Curriculum Vitae and I am afraid we will not accept any candidate without a valid reference.

If you can supply a disparate referee within the next hour, we would consider you for the position.

Please accept my sincere apology. Good luck on your job search if we do not hear back from you.

Kind Regards,

CB'S Law Firm.

I want the floor to open up and suck me in, _just for a while! _I beg.

Although no one knows what has happened, my face starts to heat up as I feel embarrassed, this is just out of order. I often have day's where my good luck comes in the same order with my bad luck but this one really is working on another level! Why didn't my referee check out? It's from my university professor. That is bizarre.

My phone starts to ring in my hand and I answer it deflated, seeing it's Darks Lawyers. What are they calling for? To fucking gloat! I sit hunched on the bar stool as I answer unaffected.

"Yes."

"Miss Steele?"

"Yes."

"It is Ms. Prynne from Darks Lawyers."

"I know who it is, I have caller ID."

"I'm sorry, have I caught you at a bad time?"

"No it's okay. What can I do for you?" I now feel really bad for being clipped with Ms. Prynne, she really is so lovely and doesn't deserve my childish behaviour.

"Well, I am simply calling to insure you did not want to take the internship before I filed your application?"

Double crap! Do I really have another option? Maybe CB's Law Firm retracting their offer is secretly lucky, maybe God has other plans for me.

"If the offer is still on the table, I would love the job please. Who will I be working with? As we did not get to cover any of the job description in the interview."

"You will be working with me for six months and then you will be reassessed Miss Steele. This is unusual but two of Mr. Grey' partners thought you had very sharp and intriguing answers in your interview and they want to give you a chance."

Her answer makes me smile like a Cheshire cat but also annoys me by the way she tells me 'Mr. Grey' partners, not Mr. Grey personally.

"Could you please thank Mr. Grey' partners on my behalf. Will I be starting on Monday?"

"Yes, Miss Steele. Monday at nine a.m. Mr. Grey likes his employees to start early and please ensure you eat a balanced breakfast."

I smile at her eating suggestions - she sounds like my mother.

"Thank you so much for waiting on me Ms. Prynne and see you Monday."

We hang up in sync and to be honest, I'm not sure if this will be a good thing or a bad thing. I'm apprehensive and nervous. I just cannot imagine what working there will be like. I hope to God that Bastard does not work there all the time; I doubt I would last a day!

My IPhone pings with a text message. I glance at the screen but the number is unknown.

From: Unknown

Good luck with your job, I look forward to seeing you.

Who the hell is that? Who the hell knows I just landed a job? I type a message back and read it three times before I press send. I have butterflies in my tummy for some reason.

To: Unknown

Thanks, who is this? and how did you get my number? x

They reply almost instantly - holy crap!

From: Unknown

You're a smart girl, I am sure you can work it out. See you Monday. x

My tummy's endlessly flipping - I need to know who it is, I will not bloody sleep tonight otherwise! It must be one of the partners from Darks Lawyers, maybe the guy who thought for me to have my internship? Maybe I should buy him a thank you present? Yes, I'll quickly pop out today and grab him something - a bottle of whiskey, every rich man loves whisky.

While in my pool of thoughts, Derek swans through the door whistling to himself without a care in the world.

"Hey Sweets, how you feeling?" He asks full of affection as he hugs me. He looks gorgeous in Chino jeans and his unruly sandy hair.

"I'm good. You will not believe what has happened since I spoke to you."

"Go on," he smiles looking intrigued, "can I have a beer please?" He quickly asks the bar tender.

"I got offered the job at CB's Law Firm, you know the place I had that second interview, the piss easy one?"

"Yeah, I remember Sweets."

"Well, I took it and I couldn't have been happier, especially because I also got offered the job at Darks Lawyers and I rejected it with pleasure. I then waited for CB's Law Firm to e-mail me the job offer letter. They did e-mail me, but they retracted their offer - and then, I had Darks Lawyers call me again, double checking I didn't want the job, but I took it, knowing I need it."

"Why do you need it?"

He looks worried as he stares passively at me with his watery brown eyes - my heart sinks at his affectionate expression.

"I want to pay my father back, Derek. You know Scarlet, his wife number three', she will go on and on, saying I just want his money and he will eventually believe her."

My fathers' wife is a money grabbing bitch with too much effort in trying to become my perfect stepmother.

"Darling, your dad loves you so stop fretting about that Scarlet woman. She should constantly be dressed in red with her name and agenda!"

He laughs trying to cheer me up as he grabs the seat to the bar stool I'm sitting on. He starts sliding me closer to him. I almost fall off balance and my heart skips a beat as I stumble. He smiles when he notices my uneasiness. Once he's pleased I'm close enough, he wraps one arm around my shoulder to comfort me. The feeling I get from him and his touch is 'homely', complete comfort from someone who is practically family to me.

"You are feather light, Anastasia , you need feeding." He jokes.

"Ha, ha, very funny. There is nothing wrong with my weight you cheeky git!" I snigger sarcastic, "I know what you mean about my father though, but it still gets to me how she affects him."

"Look, let's get drunk and talk about all this crap tomorrow morning with a raging hangover, yeah?"

"Okay, sounds like a plan. Are you staying at mine?"

"Errr, yes! We can't all afford fancy apartments on the right side of town Anastasia ." He jokes.

"I WANT YOU TO submit yourself to me." A man's dominating voice commands.

I turn in the darkness, squinting my eyes to try and see the man's features, but all I can see are compelling lagoon blue eyes that force me to surrender myself.

"Whatever you want, I'm yours." I plead.

He takes my hand, barely holding it with a feather light grip and leads me to a room that I sense is forbidden. I also sense evilness from him, but for some reason, I still want him.

After floating through a heaven like eternity, on silky gray clouds that caress my naked feet, he suddenly forces me to stop as he tugs on my hand - still not too harsh though, I feel like he's trying to make a lasting impression as he slides his fingers from mine with such delicacy.

He places a key in my hand and gently closes my fingers around its jagged edges. As I look down at my hand, I'm frustrated that I cannot see anything, it's too dark - all I have is a cold metal sensation pressed against my palm. I unknowingly unlock the door in the darkness, forcing the key to turn with more strokes then necessary, back and forth, back and forth, until finally the door flies open.

Suddenly, I'm forced with this sinister winter cold feeling that hits me like a ton of bricks. I grit my teeth and hold my breath trying desperately to handle the coldness. As I turn to see what the room is for, I suddenly see death through raging orange flames that illuminate the walls, showing glimpses of ripped old black and white photos.

"Take off your clothes and stand naked." He orders as he stands at a distance on the threshold, never entering the room with me.

For some strange reason, I willingly submit myself to him as I rush to undress from my tattered white nightgown, but I also undress because I am hot, too hot. The orange flames feel hotter than normal fire, they feel tormenting, like they possess souls and enjoy sadness as they dance around the room - I think they are feeding off of human sadness, off of people that have passed onto the other side, but I cannot be sure, it's just a feeling.

Once I am completely naked, panic starts to grip me as I suddenly feel myself melting away. As I search my body in a frenzy, searching for my breasts, belly button and legs, I suddenly see they are disappearing, like sand, endlessly flowing through my fingers, generously pouring onto the black floor in a perfect pile that I cannot touch. I try to stop the sand from slipping away but it's too late, the small mounting is already forming and my fingers are gone. All that is left of me is my bloody distorted face - caused by my tears of blood. I look at myself in a black mirror that has suddenly appeared in front of me. Panic flows through me further while I try to remember what I look like. I touch my bleeding face with what is left of my sandy melting arms, but I cannot see my features under the pools of deep red blood. Everything else is vanishing right before my eyes, even my mind. For some strange reason, I thought he wanted me, to love and care for me, but it seems this master is evil.

"What have you taken from me?" I scream before I'm completely gone.

"Everything Anastasia ." The beautiful voice confesses.

I STIR FROM MY sleep, trying to escape my nightmare of Mr. Grey, but also because I'm completely wrapped in Derek. I'm too hot - I can feel sweat dripping from every inch of my body, pooling in my neck, I think because of my terrifying dream. I lay quiet for a few seconds, trying to come to terms with my dark memory of my hands turning into bloody sand. I feel terrified - I need to put this out of my mind, now! I try to push Derek off of me, in hope that I can gather myself from the natural coolness of my apartment, but he doesn't budge.

"Derek, wake up, you are squishing me!" I beg as I try to push his heavy back.

"Anastasia , go lay on the floor." He says sleepily, thrashing his hands in the air.

"Oi, you cheeky monkey, wake up!" I admonish. I grab my glass of water from the sideboard that is pushed too close to my sofa. I generously flick specks over him, insuring I get his face. He jumps to his feet looking like hell in only his Chino jeans. I smile with pity as I watch him; he no longer has watery brown eyes, they are red and rummy. I suddenly notice how cool the water is while my fingers are still submerged into the glass. I start trickling the water over my face and chest, relishing in the refreshing cool sensation that I so desperately need as I lay back down. While looking up at Derek, uncharacteristically recognizing his ripped tummy muscles - how he keeps in shape is beyond me, he doesn't even go to a gym - I wonder how he looks so good, even in his current state. His hair is too messy and his lips are too dry - but still full. I look like crap - well I am wearing dated old grey pyjamas with holes in the knees, but still, he is hardly wearing couture!

"You have got to be kidding me, it's five in the morning Anastasia ." He moans as he checks his watch.

I quickly peer up to acknowledge the dawn that is upon us, looking out of my Victorian window, witnessing the beautiful pink to orange sun on the horizon, forcing its way through the darkness. I smile knowing it is pretty early.

"Sorry but you were completely covering me and I was baking up." I say sweetly.

He smiles fondly as he falls back on my sofa, awkwardly pulling me into his arms.

"Careful, you'll knock the water everywhere!" I say holding the glass firmly in the air as he bounces trying to get comfy.

"Here," he says as he gently takes it from my hands and places it on the carpet.

"Last night was mental wasn't it?" He asks full of amusement. He rests his warm face against mine, squishing me further into the sofa - I am stuck on the inside.

"To be honest, I don't really remember anything - only flashes before I was too out of it."

He laughs at my almost erased memory. He thrashes his hand endlessly through my tangled hair trying to tease me. I swot his hard naked chest, trying to stop him and notice he is as sweaty as I am. _Yuk!_ I repeatedly wipe my hand down my pyjamas, knowing I'm not in need of more sweat!

"Anastasia , you had every man eating out of your hands, and you got on the bar dancing!" He refreshes my memory - I cringe at the thought.

"I have no idea what came over me."

I gently place my hands over my heating face as I remember my outrageous dancing, and at my forcing Jake - the bar tender - to play, Jennifer Lopez, Play, on repeat. Oh my God!

"You know, for a sweet little virgin, you are very alluring; you had all the guys dancing with you, you even pulled a few on the bar!"

I smack his arm play fighting urging him to stop as I mentally cringe further. I honestly cannot take anymore of my allusive memories.

"Shut up! That's too embarrassing Derek!" I say as I slowly shrink into my arms, "that's why I don't ever drink, I have no idea what happens to me."

"Well I like you drunk, you are much fun."

"Someone has to I suppose." I joke.

"Anastasia , everyone who meets you falls in love with you, so I will have no more of that. Are you ready for some more shut eye? I really am tired and I don't do five a.m. wake up calls, not even for you!"

"You read my mind. We should go lay in my bed Derek, this sofa is too small - I have no idea how we fit on here."

"This sofa is fine, I'll have it if you no longer want it - this sixteenth century French look will go great in my studio apartment."

"I was not mocking my sofa, or my decoration, Derek, I was simply saying this is meant for sitting, not sleeping." I jokingly force as I sit up and stare at him with my elbow leaning on his side.

"I'm good here, I honestly cannot be asked to move."

I smile as I gently place a chaste kiss on his cheek - he needs to shave, his stubble almost makes my lips swell.

"Are you sure you don't want to jump in my bed? You will get a better night's sleep."

"Anastasia , Sweetie, I'm good here, I promise." He whispers as he squishes my favourite netted pillow into his cute face.

I get to my feet feeling my body tremble with my apocalyptic hangover, and sleepily drag myself to my comfy warm king-size bed, thankful for the memory foam that hugs my back as I again fall into the land of dreams.

THE WEEKEND PASSES SLOWLY; Derek and I stay horizontal for the entire time, eating crap food and watching movies, 9/12 weeks to Basic Instinct. We shut the curtains to get the full effect of a lazy weekend, and have not seen a glimmer of sunlight for almost two days. This is what I love the most about Derek, he wants exactly what I want in life and I came to the realization that it's bizarre that we are not together. I know I could have him in every way, he has told me plenty of times that I'm his dream girl, but I worry it would ruin our friendship if I tried to have something with him and failed, so I stop my human programmed desires.

My affection grows for him daily though, especially how concerned he is for me. He notices the small things. He keeps asking me about my dreams, saying I moan and fidget more than usual in bed, but I don't want to speak about them - they are haunting me and I refuse to re-live them while I am awake. Since my interview, I've dreamed of Mr. Grey every damn night. Every dream he takes something from me, whether it be clothing or my body parts, but I surrender myself to him every time nonetheless. I feel like my dreams are dark, deranged and overwhelming. Regardless of the nightmares, I still cannot shift this lustrous feeling I have for Mr. Grey. I should probably talk to Derek or someone about them, surely they mean something? But as usual, I opt for the easy option; by trying to put my dark thoughts aside and enjoy my last few days being unemployed.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

WE WAKE MONDAY MORNING and I think Derek is more nervous than I am as he paces my apartment, ironing my clothes - my shirt, to my skirt, to my jacket - and hanging them so formally to air them, _bless him._ He has stayed at my place all weekend and I don't think he's planning on leaving anytime soon - not that it bothers me, I prefer to have someone around, I don't like feeling lonely.

I nervously get ready for my first day at work, torn by whether to wear my overly wavy hair up or down. Hmmm? Definitely up. I know I will look like a blonde ball of fluff by lunch time if I leave it down. _Learn by your mistakes!_ My conscience says as I'm reminded of an array of laughter from my old uni friends, saying I look like fuzzy wuzzy while they snap photo shots of me to tease me later on in life.

"How do I look Derek? Professional?" I ask worried as I stand tall in the groggy darkness of my open planned lounge. He's practically a fashion guru and he's told me on many occasions that I dress like a blind woman, so his opinion is more than needed. As he dramatically opens the curtains for the first time in days, he leans to the side to eye me from head to toe and wolf whistles.

"_Woot - woo,_ sweets, you look like Arabella Mansfield herself - black is definitely your colour. Go knock'em dead, I know you will, and I will be here waiting for you to return with all the gory details."

I shake my head, knowing he's referring to Mr. Grey. This sets my tummy in motion. I hate feeling like this because I start overanalysing everything and become a nervous stuttering wreck - I try to swallow my nerves. I blow Derek a kiss as I walk out of my door holding my briefcase - I need to buy a new one, this is old and brown with remainders of stickers that I used for my folders at uni, not desirable in the slightest - but it holds so many dear memories.

Once I reach the ground level of my apartment building, I rush to get outside but not before I eye the freshly painted pastel blue walls in the lobby - it's about time they gave this place a lick of paint, we all pay enough communal rent. It's meant to look sophisticated with a hint of old charm oozing from the delicate mishmash cream to almost pink flooring.

As soon as I step outside, I'm hit with the tranquil season, making my walk to the underground so refreshing. London is filled with noticeable Spring weather. Daisies bloom in their perfect flower beds as the cool air becomes warmer in the sunlight. Sadly, I reach the underground in no time at all, gutted that I will have no sunlight for the tube ride - maybe I should have walked to work, I wonder how long it would take? I should find out soon, especially now summer is on its way. As I walk into the station, I become overwhelmed - I think my job is only starting to really sink in. I feel trepidations to say the least, worrying how my first day at work will be. I watch everyone else travelling to work, not nervous, normal - this is their everyday routine and will also be mine soon. I cannot wait for that familiar feeling to settle in.

I purposely left my IPad at home, knowing I would endlessly search up Darks Lawyers, trying to find a way to force people to like me with my extended knowledge of their company - a bad move really, no one likes a show off.

I jump off the train and finish the final few steps into work as my mind quickly moves to the white clinical staff at Darks Lawyers. I know they will notice me instantly as I walk through the revolving doors. I'm not dressed in white, I'm dressed in a black virgin cashmere suit with an elegant pencil skirt to compliment my small frame. I'm trying to make a statement that I'm different from these manufactured office mannequins. I know someone - possibly Ms. Prynne - will address my choice of clothing but I'm not budging on this. No one can dictate what I wear.

Just as I'm about to walk through the revolving doors checking my emails, something instantly catches my attention. Mr. Grey is standing outside of his building motionless, not even really looking at anything - until he sees me. Holy shit - he's hotter than I remember, and his locks are so shiny. The sun hits his raven strands and almost provokes an electric blue undertone. I suddenly catch his compelling stare and I fidget, not knowing where to put my face. - why oh why do I have to gawp at him! And why does he have to catch me every damn time! My entire body is hit with a feverish heat - this must be his own deliberate airborne illness, Grey flu!

"Good morning Miss Steele." He says as he walks over to me, gliding with one hand in his dark grey trouser pocket.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey." I reply shy and bow my head. I don't stop to talk to him, I keep walking through the revolving doors - my weird dreams of him haunt my mind. I cannot look him in the face knowing he undresses me every night while I dream of him.

I reach the lift and while I stand waiting for it to arrive - passively tapping my foot with a Spartan army of nerves smashing against my insides - I sense a strange feeling of darkness at my back. It hitches my breath and forces me to submit myself to see what's bothering me. As I turn to look around, I'm flabbergasted to see Mr. Grey standing almost flush against my back. I jump back in shock, dropping my briefcase and phone, but he catches my phone without breaking a sweat. He elegantly passes it to me, and as our hands touch, I get an electric shock - like what you feel when you touch a static balloon. I snatch my hand back as I frown wondering what the hell is going on in the air between us. It must be the Spring heat, right? My throat dries and I find it hard to swallow as this obsessive urge washes over me. I want him, _shit_, I want him, in every way! I feel... lust, need and everything south of me tightens - unexpected as I know nothing of passion or sex!

I watch him swiftly crouch down, and my face screws up as I wonder what he's doing. He rises, smoothing out his beautiful crisp grey trousers and offers me my briefcase. As he passes it to me, I grab it with clumsy hands, trying not to make physical contact with him again. I look up at him, curious. I see a dark flicker in his smouldering eyes and a hint of a smile as he notices my uneasiness. I think he's enjoying himself, seeing the profound effect he's having on me. _Bastard!_

To my surprise, he looks past my eyes and leans in on me, almost touching my neck with his mouth.

"I think I am going to enjoy having you around." He whispers.

He takes a glorious long sniff of me. My tummy clenches further. Oh my God! I cannot help myself - his closeness is thrilling! I return his gesture and I close my eyes. I inhale his scent, becoming almost drunk off of his intoxicating fruitiness - hmmm. When I finally open my eyes, all I see are his hard shoulders walking away from me, gliding through the vast white lobby. I bite my lip annoyed, still sensing his presence lingering in the air around me. I stand open-mouthed, frozen in place. Damn it, I didn't even have a chance to say a thing, nothing, words literally failed me!

Thankfully the lift pings, dragging my dumb struck eyes away from him. I mentally slap myself as I enter.

"Get a grip Steele. He has no control over you. You are a strong woman that can stand firm against the likes of him!"

I deflate leaning against the steel walls, annoyed with myself. Oh who am I kidding, he is going to constantly knock me off balance and mentally take a hold of me - but I refuse not to recognize the wolf dressed as the sheep. My realization dawns on me as I fly up to my working level. Maybe that's why all the women that work here are dressed in white and are brunette; maybe he doesn't want anyone to see the wolf among the sheep? _Stop over analysing everything Steele!_ My conscience admonishes.

The lift pings and the doors fly open, greeting me warmly with Ms. Prynne as she stands tall across the threshold.

"Good morning, Miss Steele! Are you ready for your first day?"

"Please call me Anastasia, and I'm dying to get stuck in."

"Very well, please call me Hester. How are you feeling?"

I think about her question - can I tell her that I'm absolutely shitting my pants? - No!

"I'm feeling great." I smile, lying through my clenched teeth.

"That's great, let's get started."

She shows me to my side of the desk and helps me to get acquainted with the surroundings. She takes me through the computer system and the telephone system. I assumed I'd be in an office with someone, not at a public reception desk but I was sorely wrong; although working alongside Hester is not so bad, she really is very nice.

We sit at the reception desk all morning working on letters that need sending out to clients; boring stuff considering I'm a fully qualified Lawyer - _yeah, minus experience, stupid! _

"Anastasia?" Hester says distracting me.

"Yes?"

"The letters you have written out, Mr. Grey needs to sign them. Press dial one on the phone and ask him if he is available for you to go up to his office to get them all signed."

Holy shit! I cannot do that - can I?

Breathe, breathe, I chant mentally as I start to feel even more nervous. I shakily grab the gray telephone and smile at Hester. I press the number one key too hard, hoping to break it.

"Yes." He snaps before a dial tone sets in.

"Um, Sir, Mr. Grey." I croak.

"Hello Miss Steele, how are you this morning - enjoying your first day?"

How the hell does he know it's me? And, Jesus, he wants small talk! My mouth waters and I spit little specks of saliva as I answer him.

"Errr, yes, Sir." Is all I manage.

I quickly wipe the computer screen with my jacket arm before Hester sees my watery after affect of Mr. Grey and looks disgusted.

"Is 'errr' a word, Anastasia?"

What? Did I say that? Crap! And he called me by my first name again, _wow_, that sounded like music to my ears!

"No, sorry Sir. Yes, today has been great, thank you. How is your morning?"

I literally cringe at my returned gesture as Hester eyes me wryly.

"My morning has been boring, but I think it will start to become, entertaining, very soon."

He sounds like he's laughing about something and it annoys me, because I think he's laughing at me!

"Mr. Grey, I have some letters that need signing by yourself. Is it okay if I or Hester comes with you, I mean up to you?"

Shit! I don't fucking believe I just said that! I look at Hester and she's almost on the brink of laughing with her hand firmly covering her bright red lips. I tear my eyes away from her for two seconds because I think the line has gone dead.

"Mr. Grey?" I say.

I cover the phones speaker with my hand quickly.

"Hester, I think he's put the phone down."

She looks at me questionably as she holds her perfect translucent hand out to me.

"Pass it here."

She takes the phone from me and I stare at her with worrying eyes, hoping I'm just deafened by my stupidity.

"Hello, Mr. Grey?" She asks but still, nothing.

"Do you think he's mad at me?" I ask worried.

"No, he will be fine Anastasia, he really is not as scary as you think."

She smiles at me, trying to disarm me presumably, but it doesn't work. The lift suddenly pings louder than usual. Hester and I thrash our heads in sync to the lifts direction to witness Mr. Grey gliding out, looking fucking hot! But my memory of our telephone call rushes back to me. Shit! I try to sneakily get up out of my seat and sneak away but Mr. Grey forces.

"Sit," with a long pointed finger.

I obey him like I'm a dog, because I have no words. I feel intimidated and nervous, hot, flustered, the list is endless. My seat feels as though it's soaked by my generous amounts of sweat, pooling all over my body because of my uneasiness.

"Anastasia, are you okay?" He asks in his deep dominating voice.

I look up at him, momentarily paralyzed by his beauty as he towers over me, leaning over the desk with his huge hands pressed flat against the soft white worktop.

"Anastasia?" He repeats.

"Sorry, Sir. Yes, I'm fine. Have you come to sign the letters?"

"Of course, why else?" He says as he flashed me a strange affectionate smile.

Thank God he isn't mad. I deflate inside and start to relax a little. Honestly, sometimes I worry myself.

"There are quite a few Sir. You might want to take them away with you."

"Hester," he says.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?"

"Your seat." He says as he grabs the back of her chair, hinting for her to move.

"And I'd like a coffee."

"Right away, Mr. Grey." She replies.

He pulls Hester's chair right next to me. He smiles at me with a strange expression - what's he thinking? The way he eyes me creates an overwhelming sense of curiosity, because he looks curious and that baffles me! He unbuttons his suit jacket as he lowers into the seat next to me. I pay extra attention to his skilled fingers as he unbuttons himself.

"Anastasia."

"Yes, Sir." I say almost in a whisper, looking right into his eyes. Suddenly he stares, forcing me to drown in his blue lagoons. We gaze at one another, connecting in the moment - I have a strange familiar feeling, _down there_, and my face becomes heated as I await his answer, desperate to know if he feels it to.

"Your blouse."

"Sorry, do you like it, Sir?" I ask confused.

"Your blouse buttons are undone, Anastasia."

"Shit." I curse embarrassed.

He quietly laughs to himself. His chest inflates and deflates, repeatedly. He's taking the piss out of me. I narrow my eyes at him annoyed.

"This is not funny!"

"No, I know, sorry. And it is a very nice blouse." He jokes as he continues to laugh while he leans back into Hester's chair.

_Cheeky Bastard! _Well, I suppose it was the gentlemen thing to do, he could have left me half naked and on display.I quickly button myself up feeling like the world's biggest idiot. I hope I can salvage this.

"Shall we get started Miss Steele?"

"Started on what Sir?"

He leans forward, placing his hands on the desk. His little finger brushes against mine. I have to hold my breath as I get a bolt of electricity from him. Although I like it, I feel funny. I get this strange feeling that I'm emotionally translucent, that he can see all my uneasiness. I start to breathe faster as I become heady - dizzy.

"Anastasia, relax, I don't bite."

I stare wide-eyed and become stressed further - I now have confirmation that he sees my anxiety.

"Please relax, Anastasia, if you cannot, I will have Hester bring the letters up to me."

"Sorry, it's just."

I don't finish because he interrupts me. He completely covers my hand with his. Honestly, how can his touch effect me so damn much?

"Just relax, I am telling you that you have to, so please listen to me." He whispers.

I stare at him, and start to smile as this warm feeling enters my tummy. I think I feel all his tension somehow, and when he relaxes, I relax to, almost like we are one person.

"Okay, sorry. Here are the letters."

Sadly, I have to take my hand from beneath his to grab the file containing the letters. When I turn back to him, I notice a young Asian girl has appeared, looking disgusted.

"What do you think you are doing disturbing Mr. Grey? Are you the new intern?" She snaps.

"Who the hell do you think you are talking to?" I say harshly.

Mr. Grey rises to his feet looking like Zeus, holy shit!

"Apologise now!" He orders.

_What the fuck?_

"What the, why?" She says, almost mirroring my words, but she knows better than to say that out loud to him.

"I will not repeat myself." He warns.

She narrows her eyes at me and smiles. "Sorry."

"Now get back up to your fucking reception desk and do not let me catch you speaking to her like that again."

She looks as though someone has slapped her in the face, and well, to be honest, I would rather a slap then his commanding words, jeez, he's scary!

He turns back to me, looking like stone as he takes the file.

"I will see you soon Miss Steele."

Oh no, just when I thought we were getting somewhere, he emotionally shuts down. My conscience is viciously shaking her head as I wish I could at my failure. I watch his back as he walks away from me - strong with all his achievements and wide enough for him to carry as many people as he desires through his world. The lift pings open and he turns to face me, I cannot tell if he's smiling at me, but I smile at him, letting him know I appreciate his protective effort. Once the lift is closed, I sit for ages smiling like a giddy school girl who has a massive crush. I cannot believe he defended me again - I wonder if he's like that in public? Maybe I will have to find out one day, if there is ever a work function.

Hester finally arrives back with Mr. Grey coffee in hand.

"Where did he go?" She asks looking around.

_Hester, there are no hiding places in this sparse clinical hall, you can stop looking so hard. _I joke with myself.

"He went back up to his office, annoyed I think."

I almost laugh at her baffled expression as she rolls her eyes at his aggravating tendencies; thank God it is not only me who he effects.

LUNCH TIME FINALLY ARRIVES and I'm more than thankful because I'm famished.

"Are you having lunch here Anastasia, or are you leaving the premises?" Hester asks.

"I'll eat here, it's convenient."

"Would you like to join me?" She asks and I'm mentally dancing at the fact that I've made a friend here. She's lovely - minus the white clinical clothing but I'm slowly getting used to her wardrobe choice.

"Yes sure, if you don't mind."

The phone rings interrupting us as we are about to leave. I stare impassively, nibbling on my bottom lip as my heart flips a thousand times, wondering if it's him.

"Can you get that Anastasia?"

"Sure." _With pleasure!_

"Hello?"

"Miss Steele?"

"Yes, is that you Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, who else would it be? Do you not check your caller ID?"

Crap, he's mad.

"Sorry, Sir. What can," he cuts me off dead.

"There are numerous errors in these letters. Re-write them properly, what do you think I am running here, a bloody GCSE exam?"

Well his upbeat persona didn't last long - the Bastard of Law is back in the building! Slowly I sink into my seat, rolling my eyes in frustration. I'm not sure I want to be around him anymore, he's the most confusing person I have ever met! And he has officially pissed me off with his clipped arrogance.

"I am not a secretary, if you wanted a secretary to write your letters, then maybe you should have hired one qualified for the job!" I snap and slam the phone down. A bad move probably but I don't care, I am sick of these bossy Bastards at Darks Lawyers.

"Are you okay Anastasia?" Hester asks.

"Yes, I am now that I have found my balls." I joke.

She eyes me shocked, mouth wide open, but I don't acknowledge her expression, I walk ahead of her to enter the lift.

"That was rather brave of you Anastasia." She jokes.

"I know, it was probably a little rude to, but his clipped manner really annoys me, Hester."

"I know what you mean, he is like it with most people." She says as we exit the lift.

We arrive in the cafeteria, order our food and sit on the hard plastic chairs. They are so uncomfortable, I already have a numb arse. While eating my lunch - a bacon sandwich on white that literally melts in my mouth with its smoked flavouring, _hmmm_ - I instantly sense an alluring presence and stop chewing my food. Hester and I both clock it's Mr. Grey. The entire cafeteria notices him and everyone is banished to silence - their eyes seem to burn into him. We remain quiet also as we watch him glide through, unaffected by the lustful stairs as he orders his lunch. He always looks so good, wearing his suits as appose to them wearing him; I love the colours he wears - gray's to blues - the warm pallets match his skin tone so perfectly and compliment him further, although that is virtually impossible! I *sigh* as I rest my arms on the cold table top, day dreaming about how he must be at home in his comfort zone. I don't mind admiring him from a distance, I am mentally obsessed with his appearance, he is one beautiful man and at least this way I have control over my mind and my bodies emotions.

Hester begrudgingly interrupts my line of thoughts, I can hear restraint in her voice.

"How are you finding your first day Anastasia?"

"So far, I'm enjoying myself. I was a little nervous this morning but you have a very calming effect on me." I confess.

"Well, that is good. I like to make people feel comfortable." She replies giving me a warm smile.

"You are the only one so far; I have to admit, Mr. Grey makes me feel, uneasy. I'm not sure if I like being around him. One minute he's so lovely, and the next, well, I'm sure you get the picture." I say, but as I look up at her because she hasn't answered me, she just stares past me. I mirror her action and I'm shocked to find Mr. Grey standing behind me. Double crap! He heard me!

"Ms. Prynne, if you will?" He addresses her also using his hand, motioning for her to leave us. She gets up without so much as one word. She smiles at me with pity as she collects her tray of food. My heart sinks into my tummy as Mr. Grey takes a seat _right_ next to me. Why does he have to do that? He's always within one foot proximity, it's as though he knows the effect he has on people, so he insures he creates his airless bubble so he can infect you with his presence.

"So I make you feel uneasy?" He whispers, using my awful choice of words.

He stares passively at me - with an expression of promptness, leaning closer with every second that passes; elbows on the table, slouching to his comfort. I really must learn to keep my flipping mouth shut! His beautiful yet dominating voice lingers in my mind as he awaits my answer - but he will be waiting a while as I grit my teeth, hoping that if I stay quiet long enough, he will give up and leave me alone. Our silence grows with time, but the atmosphere never becomes awkward. I watch his sultry half smile grow with my desire for him.

Suddenly, he completely catches me off guard. Out of nowhere, he grabs my left fingers without even looking at them. He holds them together as he stops me from fiddling with my apple - I wasn't even aware I was doing so. I peer up at him with lazy eyes but he isn't watching me, he's watching my red glossy apple gently slide off the table. It smashes against the floor. It appears to happen in slow motion. He continues to hold my fingers in place for longer than necessary. The air between us once again thickens with... I don't know what, but I cannot take the sudden humidity. I try to quickly get to my feet - abandoning my food and him, but he swiftly grabs my jacket arm with a firm grip.

"Sit back down Anastasia." He orders, elongating every word.

I submit like the chicken shit that I am, slowly sinking into my seat. I just stare at him with an open mouth, worried yet pissed off, wondering why he has to man handle me - it really is not requisite.

"Well? I do not make a habit of asking the same question twice Anastasia." He asks, waiting for my reply.

I should really return his gesture and make him sweat for once!

"A little." I whisper nervous, "but you know that already, don't you?" Yes, I miserably caved, but anyone would if they were sat here with his judgy eyes upon them.

His grip on my arm is still tight, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction in letting him know he's making me feel uneasy - so I just stare, awaiting his answer. The longer I stare, the more head drunk I feel - it's as though his eyes are intoxicating my brain as I sink deeper and deeper into his blue lagoon.

"You are very innocent looking Anastasia. How old are you?"

Oh my, where did that come from?

"Did I not list my age on my Curriculum Vitae?"

He gives me a, 'if you did I would have noticed', look with one raised eyebrow.

"I am twenty two, Sir."

He smiles, but it's a strange expression - he now looks drunk as his eyes slowly glaze over; what's wrong with him?

"I am going to release you now, stay put."

"Okay," I say slowly, wondering why he's so vocal about what he's doing.

"Good girl." He praises then whispers, "the third and youngest sister," as he shakes his head.

"The what?" I ask bewildered.

"Hmmm, Fitchers' Bird." He says in a heady voice.

Holy fuck! I want some of what he's had! His expression is potent and screams an sense of exhilaration. I'm sure my expression is nothing sort of stupefied as my thoughts run wild - what does he mean?

He slowly releases my arm and runs his long index finger down my left cheek. He watches me intently. His finger burns, his eyes are electric - I have to look at his hand to be sure it isn't on fire.

"Et vos eritis mihi in tertia." He mutters under his breath.

What does that mean? Is that Spanish?

He gets up and aims to leave, but not before he hits me with one more gesture. He gently takes my hand, opening all my fingers individually with his gentle touch. He places a larger red apple in my palm - I didn't even see that he had one!

"Millions saw the apple fall, but only one asked why." He whispers as he turns to leave.

I watch him walk away, mouth agape. Holy shit! What the hell just happened? My brain is in desperate need of resuscitation!

Hester slowly comes back to our table looking worried.

"You should stay away from him Anastasia." She warns.

Can I answer her? Do I remember how to speak?

"Anastasia." She says trying to get my attention because I stare past her.

"Sorry, what?"

"You should stay away from him."

"Why? Not that I was interested in having anything with such a cryptic man!"

I am so confused - why I used the word confused before to describe how I felt about him is beyond me because now, it's as though my mind is the deepest depths of the ocean. I will never know what is at the bottom but my curiosity forces me to keep looking. I try to breathe and collect myself but failing seems to be my prerogative today, so I allow myself to succumb to the inevitable as I sink further into the cold hard chair.

"He is in very high power - not just in this law firm, but also in politics."

"What does that have to do with me staying away from him?"

"He is dangerous. He has an agenda for everything. His last two wives have both divorced him - well, the second is in the process as we speak - I will admit though, I have never seen him so taken with a woman." She finishes rubbing her head.

_LAST TWO WIVES! WHAT THE FUCK!_

"But you said not to be scared of him."

"I meant as your boss." She says soft.

"Can I ask you something?" I say lowering my head so no one can see or hear what I'm about to say.

"Yes, of course."

"He said 'the third and youngest sister' then muttered 'Fitchers Bird'. What on earth does that mean?"

"Do not worry about that, he is just having fun with you Anastasia. Just, if you can, stay away from him. You seem innocent and nice, I'd hate for you to become another woman completely obsessed with him, to ultimately end up with nothing."

_You are too late on the obsessive part lady!_

I smile at her and swallow hard.

"Shall we go back to work?" I ask trying to change the conversation.

She nods, just once.

"I will meet you back at the reception. I have a few errands I need to take care of."

I throw the rest of my lunch in the trash - keeping hold of the red apple - and scurry back up to the reception, almost in a daze.

The rest of the day speeds up and runs smooth; thankfully there is no sign of Mr. Cryptic. Five o'clock draws closer and I hate that the tiredness has come for me. I am absolutely burnt out and ready for my bed. It is my first day of work I suppose but still, I hope I'm not this tired all week. It must be the mental drain due to Mr. Grey and his abstruse ways.

"You can leave early if you like Anastasia. Well done today, you have really shocked me." Hester says.

I'm so grateful for her words, especially hearing her say, 'home'. My brain has awakened and has its walking shoes on.

"Oh?" I ask trying to get some information about my performance today.

"You are very intelligent, easy to get along with and I am definitely happy to be working alongside you."

"Thank you so much Hester, that's a really kind thing to say. I will leave early if you are sure?"

"I am, see you tomorrow, Love." She replies.

I gather my things, filling my ugly briefcase with letters that I want to check before Mr. Grey has a chance to examine them.

The phone rings. Hester answers it but strangely starts to stare impassively at me while speaking to someone. Within no time at all, she hangs up.

"Anastasia, Mr. Grey would like to see you in his office."

_Fuck!_

"What, why?"

"I do not know but he was insistent. I did tell him you were leaving but he told me to stop you and send you up to him immediately."

"Can you tell him you were too late in catching me? Please." I beg. I'm not comfortable going into his office alone! Thankfully she takes pity on my angelic expression that I'm using to my advantage.

"Okay, go now. I'll call him and tell him I was too late in catching you."

I breathe a huge *sigh* of relief, grab my briefcase and hurry to the lift, shamefully leaving the last few letters.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

THE LIFT TAKES longer than usual. It feels like time has frozen and I'm stuck in the before - before the big bang. I constantly pace, back and forth, back and forth, anxious to get the hell out of here. Finally the lift pings open, but I stand frozen in place as Mr. Grey eyes burn into me. _Shit! _I need to get away from him, NOW! I turn on my heel and head for the stairs, desperate to get some distance from him, but his hands are on my waist in a nanosecond, gently forcing me to stop in my tracks.

"Please Anastasia, I want to talk to you." He begs in an alarmingly calm voice that I haven't recognized from him before.

I don't really have a choice - and I'm not completely sure I want one! - he may perceive that he's asking me but I know he's really 'telling' me in unspoken words. He gently takes my briefcase from my hand. I try to hold tight, but not tight enough - he's taking no prisoners. He smiles at me, looking exotic with his blistering eyes. He slowly untwines my fingers from the handle, paying extra attention to my digitus medicinalis as his thumb generously slides from my knuckle to the tip of my finger. I release it, knowing I am about to pass out due to Grey flu! He ushers me to go first, mentally stinging my back with his fiery touch. I turn to look at him, so I can take mental inventory of him holding my briefcase. I shake my head annoyed that even my ugly briefcase cannot beat his appearance down! I walk on jelly legs without saying so much as one word - my brain needs time to recover, it's still suffering from lunch! We enter the lift, standing so formally side by side. The doors close with absolution and the atmosphere thickens between us; I can't breathe and I can't think. _Get a fucking grip Anastasia! _I try to breathe in my nose and out of my mouth, hoping it will calm me down somewhat, but he stops my breathing altogether with his dominant voice.

"Them breathing techniques only work if you can master them Anastasia."

I peer up at him from beneath my eye lashes, hoping they will hide me. I catch a secret expression on his face with his half smile. I wonder what he's thinking? Actually, no, I don't - my innocent mind cannot handle his unruly imagination!

"What do you want to see me about Mr. Grey?" I ask trying to maintain some control over the situation, but I instantly wish I kept my mouth shut. I see his eyes, sexually squinting as he watches me. I suddenly have a dangerous feeling he's going to hit me with some indecent proposal. Out of nowhere, he points to his eyes, then to the camera in the corner of the lift, informing me that all eyes are on us. I take a huge gulp as I notice my anxiety levels flying through the roof! Fucking hell, does he have cameras in all the lifts? Embarrassment suddenly flares my heated face as I remember smelling my arm in the lift when I had my interview, oh no!

The lift finally opens on the top floor and I take a desperate huge breath, welcoming the release as the claustrophobia leaves my system. He takes my arm, leading me out. I involuntarily follow behind him, trying to keep up with his huge steps. Does he always have to man handle me? I'm not sure I like it.

"Cancel my meetings." He snaps at his PA who I recognize as the Asian girl who was rude to me earlier. I don't even have a chance to flash her an annoyed expression because I'm desperately trying to keep up with his long strides. I'm becoming breathless again. Where the hell is his office? There are so many doors in this damn building, you can never tell an important room from a general one!

Suddenly we come to an immediate halt and I almost walk into the back of him - he notices as he flashes me a mocking grin. Bastard! I seriously need to work on my dominatrix presence if I am ever to have a chance in standing strong against him! He finally releases my arm and I unknowingly rub the area he was touching, sensing dominance and sexual frustration from him - although I cannot be sure with my lack of knowledge. He takes a set of gold keys from his pocket, slipping them through his long fingers as he searches for his office key. The first thing I notice is his car key; a Ferrari, _how predictable._

I look around trying to distract myself as I wait for him to open the door. Suddenly I notice his reception area is nothing like the rest of the building. It has an opulent feel to it, dressed with perfectly crafted coving, and the floor is commanded by glossy black and white tiles - _Masonic_ springs to mind! All the offices - apart from this one - have floor to ceiling windows with matching transparent doors. I quickly forget the Italian decoration as I'm struck with an everlasting impression. I eye painting after painting of the Olympian Gods. Zeus and his sons, all in perfect order with beautiful ornate frames helping them stand powerful and strong. I wonder where the Goddesses are? There's not one on display.

I'm distracted by the loud clicking of his door. I immediately try to stop over thinking him, I will never work him out, even if my life depended on it. When he unlocks and opens his huge white office door, I'm intrigued to see his office is exactly the same as his hall, including the floor. I step in off of my own accord because I notice something. Here are the missing Greek Goddess paintings, but strangely, they are not in order like the Greek gods which I find bizarre. As I take deep note of the Goddesses faces, I notice they all look the same with Smokey small eyes and blonde wavy hair. This really confuses me. I walk in further, I see his window, stretching from the ceiling to the floor with dark red curtains trying their best to overpower the beautiful view of London.

His voice suddenly brings me back from my over analytical imagination and I realize I almost forgot he was here.

"Please have a seat Anastasia." He asks.

I walk towards the seat opposite his dangerously clear desk.

"Sit on the sofa." He says.

He smiles at me, urging my position with his hand. His eyes are bright as the sun penetrates the window. The fiery beam illuminates his irises, Phosphorus - almost blinding me with his star beauty.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"I would love a glass of wine if you have any, please." I say hoping it will relax me.

He nods his head to acknowledge my request and disappears into another room behind me. I'm appreciative for a few minutes alone. I let a load off, sitting on the edge of his sofa - ironic really, considering this is where he keeps me all the time. He emerges with the wines in hand. He effortlessly glides towards me, never spilling the wines as he takes a seat next to me. I try to shift away from him to create some distance, but he stops me after slamming the wines down. He again grabs my arm, forcing me to stay put. I peer up at him, annoyed. He smiles with a dark expression as he notices my pique response. I'm going to have to address how physical he is, it makes me feel uncomfortable.

"You finally seem at ease around me, Anastasia." He says in a soft voice.

"Really? You are obviously lacking your usual observing trait. Inside I still feel." I think seriously about how I feel around him before I answer.

"You feel what?"

"Nervous, your very unpredictable."

He smiles mockingly pleased at my observation.

"You are not the only person, I can assure you."

I stare down at my knotted fingers wondering how we got here. I also wonder why we are not really talking about anything.

"How do you like living in London?"

As I stare up at him, I notice he's leaning closer to me, looking extremely curious - this causes me to naturally examine his words.

"I like London, love it in fact. Why?"

"Do you miss your parents? I know you now live alone."

"How on earth do you know that?"

"I have my ways to find out exactly what I need to know, Anastasia."

"That is, invasion into my privacy." I almost snap with a stark expression.

"It is necessary knowledge."

"What? That doesn't even make sense - why would you want or need to know if I live alone? You're not a murderer are you?" I joke sarcastically.

"Answer the question, Anastasia." He forces as he crosses his legs - not in frustration, in a tranquil manner. How the bloody hell can he be so at ease when I'm almost a blubbering mess? And annoyingly, I cannot talk about my parents, I know better.

"Mr. Grey, sorry but my parents are off limits. What is the reason for my being here?" I ask hoping to disarm him, and in hope that I can change the conversation.

"Answer my question, Anastasia."

_No such luck, this could get messy!_

I stare him hard in the face, annoyed that he keeps ignoring my question.

"I just told you, I cannot discuss my parents. Why am I here?"

"You are a very hard woman for me to read, Anastasia."

"Sorry?" I say, double checking I just heard him right; I think he's talking about himself!

"You heard me." He says.

"I can assure you I'm not hard to read - it is you that has an unreadable personality."

He stays quiet, looking at me like I'm something to devour. His demanding eyes force me to answer him. I *sigh* before I start talking again, insuring he knows this is getting tiring.

"There is nothing to read; I'm a law graduate. I live alone in London, and I have very limited hobbies, Sir."

"You are very reticent." He mutters trying to suppress a laugh.

Cheeky Bastard!

"And you are loquacious!" I snap.

His gorgeous blue eyes shoot open in amusement. He laughs low, covering his mouth with his hand as he tries to contain himself. Really, I am not that fucking funny!

"Look Sir, I'm not on trial today. You relinquished your rights to interview me when you only asked me two questions. If you are in need of more personal information, I would recommend reading over my Curriculum Vitae or the magic of the internet has been known to be useful."

Yes, I have again found my balls. I don't like people blatantly laughing in my face!

"Were they not good questions?"

"What do you mean?"

Crap, he's caught me off guard again! What was his question?

"Your interview questions, were they not good enough for you? I found out everything I need to know about you. I found out that you are a smart mouthed woman with more than a degree. You want to challenge yourself on a daily basis and you like winning. These are all qualities I like in my women, not that I have ever had the pleasure of my desired woman - until you."

Oh my! His answer pools around in my head on repeat, 'these are all qualities I like in my women', _wow!_

He likes my smart mouth?Well here goes.

"With all due respect, I'm not your woman; I don't even know you, Sir."

"With all due respect Anastasia - it is not about knowing someone immediately. It is about gaining trust in the right respect. I interviewed you quickly to insure I kept you on your toes and also to insure you were not bored to the brink of death. I waited outside for you today on your first day of work. I have made the effort to interact with you; I have also made time in my busy schedule to see you alone, and shockingly, I have not laid one finger on you - considering I am now struggling with myself and showing immense restraint - I think I deserve a few minutes of your time, and also your trust - would you agree?"

Oh my God! He wants me, the same way I want him! His confirmation makes my ego balloon - I cannot believe it! Okay, be cool, you own this.

"What do you want? Why did you call me into your office?"

"I have a charity event that I am hosting this Saturday and I request that you accompany me."

"Is that a question or are you telling me?"

"Neither, all my employees attend these events so you will too. You can either come with me or I will meet you there."

I'm astounded at his use of words - the audacity of him! Derek was right, he's smart. I think for a while before I answer him. I distract myself by eyeing our wine glasses on the beautiful mahogany coffee table. They are now chilled from the wine and water is generously dripping down the sides of the slick crystal. I smile to myself as I notice the glasses are also touching - a small gesture on his behalf I'm sure.

"Okay. I will see you there." I reply as I get to my feet.

"Leaving so soon?" He asks with a smile dancing around his beautiful pouted lips.

I pick up my wine and take a huge gulp - holy shit, this has to be the best wine I have ever tasted! Its fruity taste explodes in my mouth as I savour the chilled sensation running down my throat. Hmmm, not only does he look good, but he has great taste too. Bastard, how can he be almost perfect? The immediate rush of alcohol gives me the courage I need to start questioning him, let's see how he likes it!

"Why do you have every Olympian Greek God painting in your reception area and all the Olympian Greek Goddess paintings hidden away in your office?"

"And you are observant, another trait I like about you." He replies, but still doesn't answer my question.

I look at him and raise my eyebrows, noting he has not met me on my feet; he's still melted in the huge red leather sofa. I never noticed his sofa before; it looks new, like it has never been sat on before us. He heeds my gaze, his eyes are ablaze.

His disarming beauty and lack of answers are annoying me.

"I bet every woman, even the clever ones surrender to your commands. Asking 'how high' when you say 'jump."

He bows his head smiling to himself.

"Never underestimate the allure of darkness Anastasia, even the most pure hearts are drawn to it."

Fuck me! His words affect me more than I realized! My heart pounds faster, sweat pools in my hands. I need to get the hell out of here before I do something I will live to regret. I lick my lips trying to digest everything that has happened in the last half hour so I can hopefully leave here without feeling haunted by him.

"I have to leave now. My friend Derek is waiting for me."

He nods his head with another question playing on his mind - I can tell by his outlandish expression.

"He's not my boyfriend." I confess - I have no idea why.

"I know he isn't."

His quick reply to my answer gets my back up.

"How do you know?"

"I know everything I need to know about you, Anastasia." He replies sombrely.

"So why get me here and ask me tons of questions if you already know the answers?"

"I like your voice, I like your smart mouth, I like the way your mind works quickly, and I now also like it when you get annoyed. The way you stormed out of your interview was very thrilling."

Is he actually taking the piss! I desperately want to smack his face!

"Is this how you get your kicks Mr. Grey? Controlling people, situations?" I almost shout.

"A little." He mutters amused as he leans forward.

He gently takes his glass. He takes a small sip of his wine and peers up at me looking delighted. Is there no end to his audacity? Repeating my answer to his earlier question, 'so I make you uneasy'. He has really pissed me off. I want to teach him a lesson. I aim to snatch his wine from his hands but in a nanosecond, he grabs my arm and effortlessly pulls me beneath him on the sofa. He cages me in with his legs, forcing mine open - my skirt rises up my thighs, leaving me exposed to him. He firmly holds my hands above my head, straddling them against the cool leather. I pant, forcing air into my deflated lungs - they feel collapsed because of his sudden attack. How the hell did this happen? I honestly thought I was gaining control but again, I have failed. His face is practically touching mine. His shockingly harsh breath thrashes into me, forcing me to indulge in the fruitiness of his intoxicating scent, along with the smell of the wine. I gasp for air, knowing I'm suffocating. I stare down towards his lips knowing he's going to kiss me, and knowing dreadfully that I want him too. No, no, no, this was not supposed to happen!

"Is this what you want Anastasia?" He whispers.

"What, you? Isn't that what every woman wants?"

"Yes, until they know me."

"Why - what's wrong with you? Besides the obvious."

"Listen to me very carefully - once you work your way through my dark layers, you will trick me into losing you, having me unknowingly carry you home in a basket of gold."

What on earth does that mean? His earlier eerie words come rushing back to me for some reason and pool around in my mind like they are some kind of an unexpected clue; _Fitchers Bird_. I blink in rhythm with my heartbeat. I sense something sinister from him; his essence changes so rapidly, like our conversations.

Suddenly his hand is no longer pinning both of mine above my head. I pull my arms down flush against my sides, vividly feeling the remainder of his grip. He snakes his hands around my waist, slipping them beneath my shirt. His frosty cold fingers send shivers rushing through my veins, causing a sense of euphoria to linger all over my body. I close my eyes, trying to accommodate the arousing sensation of his touch, not knowing if I can control myself. To my surprise - he doesn't kiss me - he gently puts me on my feet, lifting me as though I'm as light as a feather, hardly affecting his muscles. He stares down at me while he affectionately straightens out my suit jacket. He tugs on the hem of my jacket, and slides both his hands over my sides, cupping me in his grip, overly working out the creases - my jacket is not creased, what's he doing? I wonder as I notice his harrowing expression. It's only now I notice his height - he literally towers over me. I wonder exactly how tall he is?

"I will see you Saturday Miss Steele." He unexpectedly says.

What? No! Why is he now acting so formal?

"Won't I see you before then?" I ask as I wobbly stand before him, worried I won't see his beautiful face for almost a week.

"I will not be at this office for the rest of the week Miss Steele. Please see yourself out."

Wow; this situation has done a massive one-eighty on me. I'm star struck, but manage to grab my briefcase off of the hard floor. I slowly walk away from him - forcibly clutching my tummy muscles as sadness washes over me. I feel this ache in my chest where my heart is, this plague like sensation affects my system as I fear I won't see him for almost a week.

"Please be safe on the underground." He tells me.

I don't reply, nor do I look back at him. I open the door with every bit of dignity I have left in me and I leave.

As soon as I shut his heavy office door, I lean back against it, trying to gather myself as the ill like feeling quickly leaves my system. I have to get out of here, I have to leave now before I feel sick again. I rush through the hall, feeling confused as to who he is - he seems to possess numerous personalities and each one grips me when I'm in his presence.

As I walk through his reception area, I eye every Greek God knowing who they are and what they represent. He holds more of the Greek Goddess traits as appose to the Greek Gods if you ask me - Athena, Goddess of intelligence, skill, warfare, battle strategy, handicrafts and wisdom - fill my mind representing him. I wonder why the Greek Gods are separated from the Greek Goddesses? And why the Gods are in perfect order as appose to the Goddesses being all over the place? Maybe that is how he sees the world, through only a man's eyes, believing men are the ultimate power, but secretly threatened by women. That's probably why he keeps the Goddess paintings separate and hidden. The realization makes me shiver, and so do his words that have been specially placed into my mind. 'Never underestimate the allure of darkness, even the most pure hearts are drawn to it Anastasia'. I shudder at the memory as I press the button to the lift. It instantly pings open and I step in, turning to take one last look at Mr. Grey' reception, knowing it's his personality on show for only a special few. My body freezes in place as I catch Mr. Grey standing in the centre of his hall. He's staring at me with his hands placed neatly behind his back. He half smiles - I think - and as the lift doors close, I fall against the walls, desperately trying to gather myself. I'm finally able to think, breathe, and come back to life. I *sigh* feeling perplexed.

"What the fuck just happened?"


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

I ARRIVE HOME in anxious buckets of sweat. Today was a head fuck to say the least! As soon as I walk through my apartment front door, Derek's on his feet. He starts bombarding me with questions.

"Right Sweetie, how was today? Did you enjoy it? Did you meet anyone nice? Did you see Mr. Dark and dangerous?" He finishes laughing.

I drop my briefcase on the carpet in the lounge and fall into my sofa.

"Derek, oh Derek! Ugh, you have no idea what the hell has happened today." I squeal as I grab my favourite netted pillow and stuff my face into it trying to figure out the last nine hours.

"Well? Tell me Anastasia, I'm dying here!" He forces.

I spend over an hour explaining everything to him while we sit facing one another on the sofa. Legs crossed, coffees in hand that Derek so kindly made. When I'm finally finished, he just stares at me dumbfounded.

"Anastasia, I am utterly speechless."

"Please give me some feedback Derek, I'm struggling to understand today myself."

"I think - I think Mr. Grey is an overpowering control freak with way too much money. I think he's used to controlling women but he knows he cannot control you and it mystifies him. I don't think he knows how he feels about you and he's trying to work out his emotions - that might be the reason why he asked you into his office alone."

"Believe me, he probably thinks he can control me more than any other woman that has ever graced his path."

"You might think that, but trust me, you ooze independence. You are so young and yet you live alone in such a huge City. You also come across extremely aloof but I know you don't mean to appear that way, you're just suffering with your over bearing imagination."

"Aloof! That's not very nice!" I snap childishly.

"I mean it in a kind way Anastasia."

I *sigh*, wondering if his observation is true.

"I also think you should listen to Hester and stay away from him Anastasia. If he's in politics and higher power, he's probably part of the enlightened ones - I know you understand who I mean - and if this is the case, he will be working on another level which you will not be able to handle. I don't want you to be seduced into the darkness, I care too much about you."

"I think Hester just means he's a control freak, which he clearly is."

"Why don't you leave that job and find another one Anastasia, Sweetie?"

"No damn way, I deserve this job, and anyway, Mr. Grey will not be there anymore."

"I know you deserve it, but his perplexing ways must get to you?"

"His cryptic ways don't bother me much Derek, but do you know what does?"

"What?"

"I read up that Christian Grey is retired, yet he was clearly at work. And I also remember meeting him in the cafeteria when I had my interview, but he didn't buy anything, apart from my coffee. Do you think that's strange?"

"Yeah that is strange, it's like he targeted you." He replies staring at me questionably, "or you are just over analysing this like you do everything. You should be called Pandora with your curiosity young lady." He finishes teasing me with a sharp poke to my ribs.

I throw a pillow at him and get up to run. He lunges at me play fighting, knocking my coffee everywhere, but I don't care - although I should, my sofa is pastel cream and coffee will stain it. He takes my coffee and puts it on the side board. He pins me down with one hand and pulls my jacket off with the other - to gain easier access to my rib cage so he can tickle me endlessly. I try to stop him but he's much, much stronger than I am. Once my jacket is thrown onto the floor, he forces my hands above my head with his tight grip. He childishly tickles me, everywhere from my sides to my armpits.

"Derek stop!" I beg in fits of giggles while he continuously tickles me. I cannot contain my laughter - I'm on the verge of wetting myself!

"No, sorry Sweets, not until you listen to me." He jokes.

"I will, I swear!" I scream between giggles.

"Okay, okay." He jokes as he pulls me close to him. He pulls me into his lap and wraps his legs around me from behind me.

"Just please be careful and listen to the ones who know him Anastasia; that's how we people understand one another, sometimes through others in their inner circle."

He's right and luckily for me, there is no shortage of people at work who have been around Mr. Grey for years, knowing him on a personal level.

My phone pings with a text message - I'm on edge. I don't usually get texts from people. I communicate mostly on Facebook and through e-mails. I have an itching feeling it's from unknown - how right I am!

From: Unknown

Your presence still lingers in my office.

Holy fuck! It's Mr. Grey! My mouth is agape. Derek eyes me wryly.

"Derek, I'm going to chill in my room for a while." I say artful.

"Who is that from?"

"Sophie," I lie, "I'm really tired, I just want to catch up on some sleep."

"Okay, Sweets. I'll wake you at six if you are not up. We can have dinner and watch a movie, Yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan."

I quickly scurry off to my bedroom, desperate to text Mr. Grey back. This feels so intimate, him texting me, me texting him. Oh, I'm such a giddy idiot for him!

To: Unknown

So it was you who text me?

He replies almost instantaneously. Butterflies endlessly flutter around in my tummy. My face almost splits in two at my back breaking smile. This is too good, Mr. Grey, messaging me - _wow!_

From: Unknown

That's not a question - what's with the question mark?

I frown with a perplexed expression firmly in place. What a bizarre reply.

To: Unknown

Who are you - the grammar police?

From: Unknown

I have been known to punish people for such things - maybe I will punish you.

Holy shit! Am I going to get a written warning for a grammatical error? I think not!

To: Unknown

You cannot give me a warning for a typo, and I don't have a contract with your company yet, so your punishment idea may as well be a waste of brain cells.

From: Unknown

Nothing I have planned for you is a waste of brain cells - the contract will be sorted before you know it. I have big plans for you, Anastasia, so I will personally insure you are around for a while.

Oh my! He has big plans for me - a promotion, _please!_ I debate on whether to text him back or not. Can I hold myself back? NO!

To: Unknown

I look forward to your (plans) I'm very intrigued. A little spoiler wouldn't go unappreciated, Sir. x

From: Unknown

Skelp. See you Saturday.

What the hell does that mean? I rack my brain for almost twenty minutes. I relentlessly search the internet.

Holy fuck! That must be a typo.

To: Unknown

Um, Sir. I think that means spank - a typo from the grammar police, how satisfying. Maybe you should practice what you preach.

I sit and wait for a reply. An hour passes. Two hours pass. Nothing, not even a cryptic message. Why would he write such a foolish typo? I eventually give up on waiting for a reply and join Derek for a lazy weekend, knowing there is nothing I can do about Mr. Grey' arrogance.

AFTER MY FIRST day at work**, **the rest of the week seems to fly past quickly; work dragging all the while the evenings are lost to me. My dreams lucidly haunt me. I'm now fully possessed by Mr. Grey every time I close my eyes. All his words have an alternative meaning and although I understand them fully, they still take control of my mind. I never speak of my dreams, I try my very best to focus and clear my mind daily; although this only works until I close my eyes. I try to focus on the weekend. I hope that if I have something to look forward to, it will take my mind off work and the land of limbo. It thankfully works during the day, but that's all. I'm excited alongside perturbed about Saturday's charity event. I'm a big believer in helping others if you can and that's what I intend on doing; I already have my cheque filled out to donate to... well, whatever Darks Lawyers is supporting. The only situation that's making me nervous is Mr. Grey himself, so to help me feel a little less uncomfortable, I asked Derek if he would accompany me and he of course said yes. Hopefully Mr. Grey will be okay about me bringing him.

SATURDAY FINALLY ARRIVES and I strangely didn't dream last night - I'm grateful, this makes me feel… somewhat better. Derek has stayed all week, travelling to work from my place because all his clients live this end of town - but he went home last night because he had to pull a tux for the event tonight. I have a dress all picked out and I'm hoping to make a point as well as a statement. As a joke, I have decided to wear a silky white ball-gown; it's stunning and covered in crystals from the waist down with a halter neck as the vocal point. It's very figure hugging and revealing without being slutty.

Every day this week at work I have worn black - on Wednesday, Hester politely addressed my choice of clothing but backed off when I told her that I am not working for Vogue. I laugh at the memory as I pull my full length mirror off of the wall in my hall. I place it in front of one of the windows in my living area. My home is south facing so the sun completely floods my apartment. My kitchen is the vocal point to my living area. Vanilla hand carved cupboard doors, black granite worktops with gold flecks that catch the sunlight so perfectly, and subtle LED lighting that sparkles at twilight. I stare at everything in appreciation knowing I'm extremely lucky.

I play my favourite CD - Otis Redding, on repeat and I glide like an idiot around my living area while I dress for this evening. Personally, I have spent too much time getting ready today. _Three hours to be precise, if you want to get technical!_ My conscience says. I shake my head knowing she's problem is this; I want to look like Aphrodite herself to make Mr. Grey really lust after me, but I also don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I did this all for him - so I'm stuck in a time balance predicament, as well as a personal battle._ Okay, you are mentally taking this too far; he cannot see how long you have taken to get ready! Jeez girl! _My brain is on overdrive - I mentally slap myself and decide to quickly finish getting ready.I straighten my hair so it's iron flat and pin back one side to give myself an old glamorous look. I apply my Chanel peachy pink lipstick and finish with a small amount of mascara. I gaze appreciatively at the cute blonde staring back in the mirror - yes, I look hot and not tired for once!Now my shoes - this is the most important part of my outfit. I want to be comfortable but also want to be taller than five foot four. I have Gina glass slippers, hmmm? - no, they are too flat. I think I'll go for champagne coloured stilettos - yes, perfect. The heels are covered in crystal spikes, so if Mr. Grey gives me any crap, I'll insure my spikes meet his perfectly round backside!

Once I'm finished, I pace my living area nervously waiting for Derek to pick me up in a taxi. He did offer to drive but quickly retracted his offer when I informed him that there will be a free bar. _Typical Derek_.

Derek knocks on my front door. I grab my little white feathered clutch bag and open the door ready to leave. Shockingly, I'm not met by Derek, I'm met by a very smart man dressed totally in black with Ray Ban style shades - why is he wearing them inside?

"Miss Steele?" He asks.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

He passes me a little dark brown wicker box - it's no bigger than a book. He nods with a polite smile and leaves without another word. I close the door and slowly walk back into my living area analysing the box, wondering fiercely what it could be. I place the box on my glass coffee table and stare passively at it, dying with curiosity. I know who sent me this, Mr. cryptic Grey himself! Displayed on the top of the box is a picture of a knotted rope. I have no idea what it represents but coming from that control freak, it definitely means something. I cannot curb my curiosity or wait any longer. I clumsily open the box with jelly fingers to find a small golden egg. I pick up the egg and wonder what the hell it is. It's perfectly smooth without any imperfections. I'm not sure if it's real gold or not, it feels solid enough to be. Beneath the egg lays a note - perfectly crease free. On the note is a message, hand written so formally.

The note says,

Carry it everywhere and be careful with it.

"What the hell?" I mutter out loud.

I literally have no mental power left after the past week at work, constantly draining my brain, so I close the lid as I hear Derek singing -Brian Adams, I Do It For You - in the lobby outside of my front door. I take the basket with the egg inside and put it under my bed - I will deal with this later.

I rush out of my bedroom, then out of my front door, almost walking right into Derek.

"Hey, you okay Anastasia?" He whispers as he catches me by my waist with worrying eyes.

"I'm fine - I'm just really tired, that's all." I promise hoping to convince him.

"We can stay in if you like Sweetie?"

"No I have to go otherwise Mr. Grey will have my guts for garters."

"Over my dead body!" He snaps.

I lean in to hug him for some comfort. He really is a breath of fresh air - I love the bones off of him. Even though he's a psychologist, he's no mental trouble at all. I enjoy his company more than anyone's.

I stare him down. He looks dapper in his wrinkle free tux. His golden hair is all tousled. His eyes are bright. His smile is compelling. The girls are going to go crazy for him!

"You look really good Derek." I smile fondly.

"And you look like Princess Grace Sweets - you always look good." He says as he pulls me closer for a rib crushing hug. I blush at his compliment as we step into the lift. On the ride down, Derek's amused with something.

"White?" He asks with raised eyebrows.

"Sorry?"

"You are wearing white; is it the dress code or are you making a point?" He laughs.

"You know I'm making a point Derek." I joke as the lift pings open.

"I wouldn't expect anything less Sweets."

The taxi's waiting for us at the curb. We slide in anticipating the evening ahead. I hate the smell of taxi's, there are always 'no smoking' signs but every damn car stinks of cigarettes. I smoke on the odd occasion but when I haven't tasted a cigarette for a while, I notice how much they really pong!

The ride is short and sweet; thankfully the event is not far from my apartment. As we pull up, I notice that we must have arrived a little early. It's dead - there are literally no people around. I assumed it would be packed. I'm sure Hester told me 'five thirty at the United Grand Lodge'? Derek and I exit the taxi arm in arm. He's excited, I can tell by his beaming expression as his tender warm eyes are alight with curiosity. We start to enter the United Grand Lodge and a security guard immediately stops us.

"Surnames' please Miss."

"Steele."

"Anastasia Steele, you do not have a plus one invitation." He says.

"I don't have an invitation full stop. My invitation was not on paper, it was verbal from my boss, Mr. Grey."

"Your friend will have to leave Miss."

"If he leaves, so do I!" I reply firm. The man moves out of hearing distance and immediately gets on his speaker phone. I didn't think Mr. Grey would mind me bringing Derek, maybe he does - damn it!

"You and your friend can go in Miss." He tells me, motioning for me to take my first step on the red carpet.

I release the breath I was holding, thankful that we don't have to leave. I can only imagine how Monday would go down - firstly with a private meeting in Mr. Grey office, and secondly, with a red arse!

As we enter, I'm hit with a sudden sensation that I'm the size of an ant. I stare up at the heaven height ceilings taken aback. Holy hell this place is huge! If it was smaller, you would think they have too many paintings, but even the hundreds of paintings cannot command this vast space. The furnishings remind me of a church. The odour does too - dampness, nothing but dampness. It's too big. The cool draughty space is inevitably cold.

"Anastasia, you didn't tell me the event was being held here!" Derek whispers into my ear.

"To be honest, I didn't really give it much thought but now I'm here, I'm a little taken back."

"Maybe your ignorant Bastard boss is in fact, a Freemason?" He jokes.

I think about his probable discovery and aim to answer him, but Hester calls interrupting us.

"Anastasia - Derek, wow. I had no idea you were coming tonight?" She addresses Derek giving him a warm hug.

"I had no idea you two knew one another; how did you meet?" I ask shocked.

Derek smiles at me and dances his thick eyebrows up and down. I know he's being rude regarding his relationship with her - ugh! He calls his eyebrow dance, 'sexy time'.

"Right, I will go get some drinks." I quickly mutter - I do not want the gory details of Derek's sex life!

I walk into the room clearly labelled 'BAR'. To my surprise and appreciation, here are all the guests, but, I'm flabbergasted. I stop dead, stupefied and realize there is a dress code. My mouth is agape, my eyes are almost popping out of my head.

"Fuck!"

Every woman is in red and every man is in black. Hester was dressed in yellow which is bizarre and I'm bloody dressed in white! This is not going to plan, I'm losing already and the night is still young! Did Mr. Grey purposely withhold the dress code information as a joke? _Touché. _Fuck this, I'm leaving! I'll call Derek from outside.

I see a door labelled 'EXIT'. I push it open trying to escape, but as I do, I instantly feel a strong hand on my arm, pulling me back into the room. The physical contact burns my naked skin, mentally scarring me. I smell him before I see him; his fruity cologne itches my nose. Mr. Grey pulls me close. He holds me tight with one arm firmly caging me in, keeping me flush against his chest. He lifts my chin with his long index finger, forcing me to meet his compelling eyes.

"Where are you going?" He whispers.

I breathe a frustrating *sigh*.

"I am the only one here dressed in white - I'm leaving."

I try to walk off but his grip tightens.

"You are going nowhere Anastasia." He forces. He releases my body, but grabs my arm. He starts pulling me through the crowd of people.

"Let me go!" I snap but he acts as though he cannot hear me. I look around hoping someone will stop him from man handling me but no one acknowledges us.

"Fucking let me go before I slap you!" I almost scream.

Again, he ignores me. Fire fills my tummy. My face heats as rage becomes a part of me.

We arrive at the bar and he instantly releases me.

"What do you think you are doing?" I bark annoyed. I aim my pointed finger at him, trying to come across no nonsense.

"Anastasia, you defy me at work on a daily basis - why stop now?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The dress code - I am assuming that is why you are so annoyed? I didn't think giving you a dress code would make a difference. I know you don't want to be another statistic and like you said, 'you do not work for vogue'." He mimics my words.

I flush scarlet. How does he know I said that? I said that to Hester! The damn cameras must have sound too! For fuck sake!

"What's wrong?" He says soft.

"I'm annoyed at you man handling me all the damn time! And this is different - the dress code rule you have does not apply to me at functions."

"It obviously does apply, you are specifically wearing white - don't think I didn't notice."

Of course I knew you would notice you nincompoop! That's why I did it! I stare him down, insuring I don't look at his smouldering eyes - I know better, I will cave.

He looks utterly delicious in a fine black tux, buttoned all the way up his tall hard body. His unruly raven hair is tied back into a small ponytail. His lips are rosy pink and so full - _hmmm._

"Anastasia, you should obey your work dress code - you should obey all my rules. You will find yourself over my knee one day with a swollen red arse if you don't. Maybe then you will regret your smart mouth!"

Holy fucking shit! Did he just practically tell me he's going to spank me? He can fucking try, I'll put him over my knee and see how he likes it! He stares me down with glazed eyes. He smiles - he looks momentarily paralyzed for once. What's he thinking?

"If you ever try spanking me, I will slap you so damn hard and insure I knock you into next week!"

"A day I look forward to Miss Steele." He challenges.

Ugh - I cannot banter with him about sex, I'm only setting myself up to fail, miserably!

"What's this charity event supporting?" I ask trying to change the subject.

"Research."

"What research?"

"Important research. I have already submitted a cheque on your behalf."

"I can afford to donate without you!"

He eyes me for a while and smiles fondly at my independence.

"Well?" I ask.

"Well what?"

"What, is, the, event, supporting?" I single pronounce every word; if he wants to play stupid, I can treat him as though he is stupid.

"I like it when you speak to me like that; your shatteringly beautiful voice does strange things to me, Anastasia." He whispers as he leans in on me.

Fuck me he smells good!

"I have to go." I mutter. I am again struck down with Grey flu. Strange hot flushes escalade all over my body - I think I'm going to pass out.

"Back to your friend, Derek?" He asks and I'm shocked.

"How do you know I'm with my friend? When did you see us?"

"I see everything Anastasia, eye see you." He whispers pointing to his unorthodox eyes.

"You have to stop this." I warn.

"Stop what?"

"Your controlling and obsessive issues. You can't control the world!" I exaggerate motioning my hand around.

"I already do." He replies smiling.

"You really are an enigmatic Bastard." I snap.

"And you get more exciting by the minute."

"Piss off!" I bark hoping he will back off.

"I would watch that smart tongue if I were you Anastasia; you would hate for it to end up straddled in forceps."

"Is that a threat?" I challenge trying to hide the fact that I'm shitting myself!

"Always." He replies smiling like the devil in disguise.

I stare him down absolutely fuming.

"Oh, I give up!" I snap.

I try to storm off. He grabs my arm again but I smack my hand into his.

"Do not touch me!" I warn.

He elegantly puts his hands in his pockets looking poised and tidy. I feel his eyes on me as I storm childishly through the room. I mentally scan the building, noticing all the symbols; triangles, the compos and the lion heads on every column. What the fuck am I doing here?

A beautiful Asian man suddenly stops me in my tracks.

"Anastasia?" He questions.

"Yes."

"Anastasia, it's me, Abdulah - we went to university together."

I have absolutely no idea who the hell he is.

"Sorry, I cannot remember." I say with a sweet smile. I turn to leave, quicker than necessary.

"You always were a taciturn bitch!" He mutters almost so quiet that I cannot hear him.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me." He snaps with a sarcastic smile.

"How fucking dare you speak to me like that!" I scream in his face.

"What on earth is going on here?" Mr. Grey suddenly appears at my side.

"Go away." I warn.

"Oh, another man blessed by your ignorance?" Abdulah jokes.

Mr. Grey suddenly turns, slower than usual and looks as though he's struggling with his posture. Out of nowhere, Mr. Grey swiftly grabs Adbulahs' throat, squeezing it with more force than necessary. He stares with dark eyes, desperately trying to control himself.

Shitting hell!

"Christian!" I shout, using his name for the first time ever, hoping to disarm him.

"Apologise, NOW!" He screams in Adbulah's face - showing all his teeth as though he's a predator.

Adbulah closes his eyes with pure fear written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry!" He says under his breath, eyes still closed.

"That's it, now let him go." I beg.

I take Mr. Grey' arm, trying desperately to stop him from killing Adbulah. Mr. Grey releases him, panting like a man who has done a straight twenty mile stretch. I glare at him, shaking my head.

"I'm going to find Derek, cool the fuck down!"

He doesn't answer me, he's still trying to calm down. I can see frustration in his now black eyes and I sort of feel bad that he had to do that for me. I'm appreciative though, no one has ever protected me like that before. I feel kind of special as I slowly start to smile - that was a reaction a million women would die for.

After a while of searching, I eventually find Derek; he's still with Hester.

"Hay Darling, you okay? Where are the drinks?"

Crap the drinks!

"Sorry, I got talking to someone."

He raises his eyebrows and I know what he's referring to.

"Let's go get a drink Darling." He says as he links arms with me.

I take his arm and revel in the comfort of him. He feels like home and I feel so far from it right now.

Derek's thriving here; I watch his open smile as he glides throughout the hall. This place and these kind of events are more for him than me. He enjoys reading people and mentally feeds off discovering the unnoticeable.

We arrive at the bar and I'm ready to let loose.

"What can I get you Miss?" The waiter asks.

"I would like a beer please?"

"Um, we do not sell beer. This is a classy establishment Miss." He says.

My blood boils to over one-hundred degree's. I almost let rip but shockingly, Mr. Grey is at my side answering for me.

"This will be a classy establishment with one less waiter if you do not find this woman a beer, James Somersett!" Mr. Grey snaps.

The waiter has had his card marked by the devil himself. My expression laughs for me as the waiter clumsily rattles around trying desperately to find me a beer. I'm annoyed that Mr. Grey assumed he had to come to my rescue again; what does he think I am, a damsel in distress? We stare at one another expressionless - I feel as though we are mentally challenging one another. The waiter nearly slams my beer in front of me so I try to make his job harder for him as well as piss Mr. Grey off - he needs to learn a lesson, fast.

"Actually, I think I fancy, Sex on the Beach, Sir. – Care to join me Derek?" I ask all the while staring at Mr. Blue – sorry - Mr. Black Eyes.

"It will be my pleasure Anastasia Sweets." Derek replies all boyish.

Mr. Grey stares impassively at me, not giving anything away. His smouldering eyes burn into me as my confidence slowly disappears. I start shitting myself thinking I have taken this a step too far. He suddenly turns and faces me with his back for a few seconds, then he just walks off. I'm annoyed that I didn't get more of a reaction out of him and I also feel kind of bad for not showing gratitude to him for protecting me.

"Anastasia, what the hell just happened?" Derek asks open-mouthed.

"I think I finally checkmated Mr. Grey."

"Fuck, you should be careful Anastasia. He looks scary and I think he will one up you in no time at all. Stay with me tonight, do not go off alone." Derek insists.

Derek's words scare me and Australian surfers are officially having their tournament in my tummy; smashing my insides like they are the oceans waves as my nerves plummet.

"Yeah, maybe you are right. I was only trying to teach him a lesson."

"It might be your lesson without you even realizing it."

I take a huge gulp and try to compose myself. A speaker calls for dinner over the music, distracting me. I don't think I could so much as manage a drink with my nerves, let alone food!

"Would you two like to join me at my table?" Hester asks. I almost forgot she was here - I'm not looking forward to her opinion on tonight.

"We would love to - thank you Hester." I reply.

Thankfully we are seated at the back of the huge hall - Jerry hiding while Tom sniffs him out. Everyone takes their seats and just as I am about too, Mr. Grey appears standing beside me. I look up at him trying to conjure up an innocent expression; hopefully it will save me.

"Anastasia, I would like you to accompany me at my table."

"No damn way!" Derek snaps.

"No one addressed you!" Mr. Grey replies.

Derek gets to his feet looking tall and strong.

"Lay one finger on her and I will knock you into next week!"

"A conquest I would pay to see Derek." Mr. Grey laughs.

Within seconds, our table is surrounded by ten security guards looking like CIA Agents - all standing in perfect sync as Mr. Grey stands centred. Derek eyes them all and I know this is not going to end well for him - Derek is in no way a wimp, he had many winning fights in university but I somehow think Mr. Grey has the upper hand here tonight.

"Anastasia?" Mr. Grey urges holding out his hand.

"Derek, we are leaving." I mutter as I collect my clutch.

"You are not!" Mr. Grey says.

"This is a free country, I can leave when I want or should I read you my rights and the legislation Mr. Grey?" I reply smart.

He smiles and motions for us to make our way out. Derek and I seem as though we have held our breaths while walking through The United Grand Lodge - it's as though the roof is caving in and we have only minutes to get the hell out of here. Once we are outside, Derek hails down a taxi. We get in and both sink into the back seats, sighing like we have just done ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

"Anastasia, I want you to quit your job at Darks Lawyers."

"I somehow don't think I have a job to go back to Derek." I joke.

"I am serious Anastasia! That man is dangerous and controlling!" He shouts.

"Okay, calm down Derek, I was only trying to lighten the mood."

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me _right_ next to him. He kisses my temple with affection.

"It would kill me if something happened to you Anastasia, knowing I could have stopped it."

"Derek, I will be okay. I will not have a job after tonight anyway. Are you coming to mine or are you going home?"

"I have to go home. I have a private client that is near my house tomorrow - I cannot be late, I'm hoping she will recommend me to all her friends."

"Okay, I will call you tomorrow." I say gutted knowing I will be alone tonight.

I ARRIVE HOME and deflate *sighing* into my sofa - still dressed in my gown. I have absolutely no energy left, mentally or physically. Every damn day near Mr. Grey is draining - he's constantly working overtime for his own entertainment.

I fetch my clutch off of my glass coffee table. Upon opening it, I notice I have Derek's phone, crap!My front door knocks, quiet with a repeated rhyme, - _knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock_. I know it must be Derek coming to collect his phone. Hopefully he will stay.

"Hang on." I shout as I get to my feet.

I unclasp the chain, turn the key and open it to shockingly see Mr. Grey standing tall. I shit myself and I try to slam the door on him. He quickly rams his foot on the threshold blocking the door from shutting - Bastard!

"What do you want Mr. Grey?" I ask sweetly, hoping to disarm him.

He pushes my door wide open, nearly smashing me into the wall. He strolls in carefree.

"What are you doing? Get out!" I scream.

He puts his finger up to his mouth and whispers, "shhh."

_Shhh! Fucking Shhh!_

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream!" I warn.

He gazes at me. He smiles looking devilish. Just as I'm about to take a huge breath - preparing to scream, he lunges at me. He pins me against the wall with his forearm held firmly against my chest. His other hand is completely covering my mouth. I stare into his blue eyes, not knowing if I should be scared or not - I have no idea why he's doing this. He says nothing for a while and as I gaze longer, I mentally become intoxicated. I have to close my eyes to try and only imagine this is happening. I'm not scared of him, my confirmation suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks - I'm scared of myself when I'm around him. I feel as though I might lose all control and allow him to do whatever he wants to me.

"In life, I need inspiration, or confirmation - to me, you are both." He confesses.

He kisses my forehead and rests his soft lips there for a while. My heart races to one thousand beats per minute. My mouth waters, my cheeks heat. He releases my mouth with his hand and gently holds my neck. His other hand is still caging me in.

"I cannot have anything to do with you Mr. Grey."

"Why?" He whispers defeated by my words. He frowns looking down at me.

"You scare me." I lie, lowering my head, knowing the problem is being scared of myself.

"Look at me." He orders.

I ignore him, knowing I'm losing myself.

"Anastasia," he whispers, "look at me."

I submit myself, obeying his order. Slowly, I lift my eyes to meet his.

"Everyone is frightened of me. Don't feel secluded by your feelings."

I try to move out from beneath him. He's so close. I have no choice but to brush against him, touching his entire body with mine. Suddenly, I hear his breathing become more harsh. Once I'm completely away from him, he bucks forward into my wall, weakened by something. I watch him strangely fall apart in my presence.

"Why do you want me? What's so special about me?" I ask curious but also fearful.

He turns and leans against my wall facing me, thinking before he answers me. He looks unorthodox, dangerous.

"You are different, I see myself in you - you are me ten years ago, before I was broken. I have had my eyes on you since the first day I saw you. You are mentally burnt into me. I want and need your endless emotional attention Anastasia - I want to possess you."

"For your third?" I snap, agitated by his earlier words and by the discovery of his two wives.

"For my everything." He whispers.

I try to digest his words, everyone burning into my mind. He's so confusing! One minute he has the upmost control, and the next, he's falling apart right in front of my eyes. I couldn't be with him - in any way. I know I would succumb to his dark desires, I know I would allow him to do whatever he wants to me. I cannot allow that, I will be the one who suffers the ultimate emotional price.

"You have to leave Christian." I ask quiet.

He stares at me, his eyes sparkle with… pain and rejection, I think. He slowly walks towards me, stopping dead in front of me. We visually test one another as we stand centred in my hall. I wonder if his thoughts are the same as mine, I wonder if we could ever really work together? Earlier in his office, I felt as though I fed off of his essence, I still feel the same, I still feel as though we are strangely one person. He quickly grabs my arms with aggression, which makes me jump - his fingers dig into my naked skin, almost making me bleed. I close my eyes hoping I can blindly protect myself. He unexpectedly kisses my cheek near my temple - his lips feel swollen, glossy, they almost fill me with desperation. He slowly and generously inhales my scent - his deep vibrating chest sends a spellbinding rush up my entire body. Why can't he be normal? _If he was, he probably wouldn't want you. _My conscience does nothing but fill my chest with a heavy aching pain.

After only a few seconds of having him on me, I feel his hands slowly slide from my arms. He backs away in almost complete silence, and before I know it, I hear my front door shut, and it's as though he was never here.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

I LAY CROOKEDLY ON my bed, above my duvet - hot and disgustingly hangover. After Mr. Grey left last night, I polished off a bottle of wine, now I wish I didn't! I need to get up, Sunday's here ready for me to laze around, and I need food - I didn't eat last night. I drag myself to the kitchen, sleepily with wild bed hair. I notice how gray and cloudy it is outside - London is completely under a cover of heavy spectrum shadows - I need to shut the curtains, the weather really cannot mimic my mood, that's just taking the piss. I open my refrigerator and pick out the first thing I see for breakfast - cold boiled eggs, ugh! How ironic. While sucking delicately on my egg ensuring I don't break it - I mentally still have not decided if I can yet manage food with my wrenching tummy - I stand lazily against the kitchen units. I rewind the past evening. I stand relentlessly shaking my head; Mr. Grey is a fucking stalker! Why oh why didn't I give him what for? I wouldn't usually take that kind of shit from anyone.

My front door knocks making me jump out of my skin, almost causing me to drop my food.

"Holy fucking shit! Please don't be Mr. Grey!" I beg.

I gently place the egg on the counter top. I slowly but surely step through my living area on tippy toes, listening intently to the voices in the hall but nothing's given away - I cannot hear a damn thing.

"Who is it?" I ask in a squeaky and shaky voice.

"Sweets, it's Derek."

I breathe a huge *sigh* of relief. My hunched back has ironed itself out and my brain is now functional.

I open the door, not caring that it's Derek - I'm fresh out of bed, but I feel comfortable with him, maybe too comfortable. Oh my, he looks hot! Hotter than usual. He's not wearing skinny jeans or his usual Chino's, he's wearing crisp cream trousers and a brown leather jacket! Jesus he looks nice.

"Are you okay Anastasia? You look - flush."

I stare wide-eyed at him; Jesus this guy reads me like a book.

"I'm okay. I will fill you in on the previous attack."

He stops me from walking any further and urges, "stop, tell me now!"

I turn to face him, knowing this is not going to go down well.

"Are you sure you want to know?" I joke.

"Anastasia?" He narrows his eyes at me. His mouth sets in a hard line - he's taking no prisoners.

I tell him what happened with Mr. Grey last night, trying desperately to keep everything minimal - I know he's already pissed with him - but I can't beat the evening down, even though I try. Derek's fuming! Forget cloud nine in my apartment, it no longer exists; only Hades underworld is currently present!

"I am going to kick his fucking head in! Why didn't you call me Anastasia?"

"I have your phone smart arse!"

"Good point, but still, you should have called the house phone."

"I would have called the police Derek. I was not having his shit. Can we please talk about something else, mindless stuff? I cannot deal with analysing Mr. Grey or his mind control."

"Anastasia, we should talk about this, we need to sort something out - he cannot just rock up at your apartment!"

"Derek, please." I beg with puppy eyes.

He stares me down, debating on whether to press on - I think.

"Fine, as you wish."

_Pheww! _

"Anastasia, you really need to invest in some new pyjamas, them awful gray ones are dated and holy, literally!" He jokes.

I laugh at his observation - my pyjamas may be rank but they are the only stable thing in my life right now - always here when I need them.

"Oi, leave my pyjamas out of this, what have they ever done to you?" I joke.

He shoots me an affectionate smile as we walk into my living area. He falls faster than I do into my sofa.

"Derek, do you promise that we will not talk about Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, Sweets - no more talk of that prick! Well, for today anyway."

Derek's word is always promised and never broken; we don't mention Mr. Grey for the rest of the day, not once.

I end up sleeping most of the day on my sofa with my apocalyptic hangover. Derek cotches on the sofa beside me, watching crap television - he must be so bored. I know he's only hanging around to make sure I'm okay. He's so damn sweet, caring, loving, the list is endless. I wish I could force myself to have romantic feelings for him, my life would be so much easier, and almost perfect. I wonder what it would really be like to be in a relationship with him - what it would be like to have sex with him? Would he be tender or animalistic? Hmmm, probably animalistic. He's feisty, funny, argumentative - with most people - and he always man handles me when we play fight. I don't mind him man handling me, I trust him.

"Anastasia," Derek whispers as he gently shakes me, thinking I am asleep - _bless him._

"Derek, five more minutes." I joke. I'm not asleep but I'm peaceful in the land of daydreaming.

"Sweets, it's late - I have to go."

"Why don't you stay the night?" I mutter sleepily.

I turn to face him. He's crouched on the floor next to the sofa facing me. I didn't even notice he had got up.

"I would love to but I have another client at my neck of the woods tomorrow Sweets."

"Okay, call me tomorrow, yeah?"

"I will. Sorry about your job Anastasia, but I think it's for the best. I'll help you find another one Tuesday."

"I know you will." I smile. I lean over to peck his cheek. "See you later."

"Bye Sweets."

I watch him leave, gutted that I'll be alone tonight and also annoyed. I cannot believe I'm actually going to lose my job over a flipping man! Damn Mr. fucking Grey to... well, not to hell, just, damn him! Everything my mother taught me has been for nothing. She always told me.

"Anastasia, men are so readable, even on first appearance. Look at their smile, then their eyes. If their smile is on display - open and real - then they are probably as wide and as open as their lips and teeth. And then their eyes. Eyes tell a story of their own. If someone looks broken, it's probably because they are but remember, broken can be fixed. It is the dark and dangerous eyes that you need to notice, they are the ones who will take everything from you. This is how you evaluate your opponent and then you must learn to adapt to each creature, perfectly becoming a powerful woman."

Her words linger in my mind, they have for nearly five years - I'm only too ashamed that I cannot become what she wanted me to be. My mother is such a wondrous woman, totally full of wisdom, love - oh how I miss her. I never think of her, it's too painful, knowing she's alone in the world - suffering more than anyone could ever understand.

Before I know it, it's eleven forty-five. I drag myself to bed, a little sad after thinking about my mother, and also knowing tomorrow will inevitably come, filled with losing my job and another news paper - so I can search for a new job.

I WAKE NAUSEOUS, WORRIED. I know I should now be at work, it's nine forty-five. I have been endlessly checking my phone but not one call has passed through. I decide to get ready and go out hoping it will take my mind off things. Maybe my father would love a surprise visit. It's only an hour's train ride away, so I'll get to Maidstone in good time - that's where my father lives, Maidstone in Kent; perfectly hidden away in the country side. I really should invest in a car, I have my driver's licence but I have never put it to good use.

I get out of the shower and to my surprise, my phone starts ringing.

Jesus, am I excited or scared? Hmmm, BOTH! I close my eyes as I feel my tummy fold over, flipping endlessly as my nerves take over my system.

"Hello." I answer worried.

"Anastasia, where are you?"

"Hester, I'm surprised to hear from you."

"Why?"

Because I thought that Bastard would call to at least apologise!

"Well, after Saturday, well, I didn't think I would have a job."

"Anastasia, I have put your absence off long enough. Please hurry and get into work."

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea Hester, things have gone too far. I mean, I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Do you want to work in law Anastasia?" She questions.

"Yes." _Obviously!_

"Well get your skinny little back side into work, asap!" She finishes and hangs up.

Holy shit! Can I do this? _Yes! Yes! Yes! You deserve your job!_ Okay, I guess I'm going to work - maybe if I just stay quiet, resist the phone and eat at my desk, I will be successful in hiding from Mr. Grey. Thank bloody God I have already showered, time is becoming a real problem for me these days.

I quickly get dressed like 'a blind woman' as Derek would so nicely put it. I snack on a belvita biscuit, and I head out in double time - almost running through the streets until I reach the underground. Luckily getting to work is trouble free. I seem to have missed the rush hour; maybe I should ask to start work early and finish later to make my life a little easier? _Yes, I am sure they will let you come and go as you please! _

I rush through the revolving doors at Darks Lawyers, out of breath and overwrought, I don't think I can face Christian, _Mr. Grey to you! _Yes, I must remember to call him Mr. Grey otherwise he will end up doing… well, doing something I don't like presumably.

While arguing with myself, something unexpected catches my eye. I stop dead in the middle of the huge white lobby and check everyone's appearance. There is not one person dressed in white, in actual fact, everyone is dressed in ordinary clothes, _what the Fuck? _My eyes glance at the beautiful designer gray to blue to red suits - wow! I stare down at myself and notice I'm dressed in white, without even realizing! I'm wearing a black blouse but my suit is white. Grey mental clouds emerge changing my mood. My temperature boils to over one-hundred degrees! Is this man mind fucking me? I quickly collect myself and lose the jacket - tucking it neatly under my arm, hoping my white trousers will go unnoticed. I doubt it though. I rush to the lift with my head down and thankfully it's empty, so there are no clothes comparisons. I arrive on my work level and Hester's waiting for me. As soon as she gets a glimpse of me, she stares wide-eyed.

"Please do not tell me that on the first day in history of Darks Lawyers enabling employees to wear what they wish, you turn up in white!"

I shake my head with too much effort, my brain thrashing from left to right, but I welcome the headache, at least this is of my own according.

"I'm sorry I'm late Hester, I just," She interrupts me.

"Forget that Anastasia. You have a promotion." She nearly screams with a beaming smile.

What? Did I just hear her right? I have a promotion!

Okay, this has to be some kind of joke. I stand waiting for someone to jump out and scream '_Punked'_. Waiting, waiting, still waiting but nothing. I'm utterly speechless, stupefied and confused all at the same time. My mind doesn't make sense so I'm pretty sure my face looks disorientated.

"Come again?" I ask.

"I wouldn't advise on coming at all," she jokes, "I would advise on grabbing your box from behind the reception desk and following me."

On shaky legs I manage to make it to the reception desk. I sink solemnly into Hester's seat. I think I will check myself into the Bethlem Royal Hospital, surely I have imagined the last week?

"Ready?" Hester asks as she motions for me to move along.

I grab the box containing all my paperwork, noted no personal items - I really should get some pictures of my family and friends to keep me company.

We enter the lift and it flies us all the way up to the top floor. My mouth dries as my brain comes crashing down - Mr. Grey! The Bastard! I know he has everything to do with my promotion. _Jesus, better to catch up later than never! _This is all happening too fast! I was at home, comfy and feeling safe just over an hour ago, and now, I'm on the same level as Mr. Grey with a flipping promotion!

We exit the lift, all the while in complete silence. Nothing has changed up here, it's still the same Masonic reception area. Hester shows me to an office. Thankfully it's only around ten feet away from the lift - a quick getaway - it's more than necessary - Mr. Grey' office is only about twenty feet away!

"This is your new office Anastasia." She smiles.

_Wow_. It's beautiful; the floor is carried through, which I don't like but the opulent white walls paired with the picturesque view of London is just breathtaking. There are no curtains to hide me from the lobby though; the translucent door and inside window are vast and clear without so much as a finger print. Mr. Grey probably did that on purpose to keep me exposed. There is a solid deep brown desk, carved into a sophisticated design with small brass handles on every draw - there is also a huge bookshelf to match the desk. The desk is perfectly in the centre of the office, making a statement with its grandeur. It's comfortably holding an Apple Mac. In my opinion, the Apple Mac looks too modern in here, this room is fit for a Queen - like Mr. Grey' office.

I walk over to the bookshelf that practically fills the wall - it's huge. I want to see what books there are. I'm curious to see if Mr. Grey has specifically hidden a book, trying to tell me something in a story - I think he's cryptic like that. Law book after law book fills the shelves, every legislation imaginable is here - boring but necessary - in the middle of all the books though, which almost causes me to burst out laughing, is a first addition of Wuthering Heights. Yup, I was right, he definitely put that there to try and cause an emotional impact. Jesus, if that man thinks I will die from a broken heart because of him, he's sourly mistaken. I stand open-mouthed and just gawp at everything. I turn back to face Hester, desperate for answers.

"What is this about Hester, why am I being given all this?" I ask. I exaggerate my hand motion waving at everything.

"You need to read through the envelope on your desk and sign Anastasia, then, get to your dedicated job immediately. The girl at the reception is called Jezebel. She is dial number one on the phone. She is yours and Mr. Grey PA. Don't ask why you have struck lucky, just accept it and work hard so you deserve it." She finishes as she leaves my office.

Once Hester is gone, I unpack my box, creating a location for everything in a heady daze. This is beyond anything I ever expected here and I can't help but over think it. I quickly remember the girl at the reception desk from the other day - she's so young and fucking rude. Now I'm in a higher position, maybe I can get her sacked?

Once I have finished unpacking my things, I open the brown envelope. It's a work contract for two years. _Oh my! _I'm so excited. I cannot believe I have a proper job! My mother, father and Derek will be so proud - I'm no longer a secretary! It takes me almost two hours to read through the contract. It's all pretty normal; hours, pay, laws here, etcetera.But what really gets me are the last few pages and the NDA.

Employment Contract _from_ Darks Lawyers for - Miss Anastasia Steele

**Employee and Job Description**

Name:

Miss Anastasia Steele

Address:

Whitehouse Apartments, 9 Belvedere Road, London, SE1

Telephone Number:

07777744437

E-Mail:

AnastasiaSteele

Gender:

Female

D.O.B

23 August 1989

Job Description:

Criminal Lawyer - _assigned cases only_

Salary:

£60,000 Yearly - to be revised yearly

Degree:

Criminal Law Degree – Non Masters

Hours:

40 hours per week on basic - case hours to meet the client/s

Employment Contract

From 09/03/2012 to 09/03/2014

Personal Contract

Anastasia Steele - Above information accurate and checked.

You agree if any of the above information is false you will bring it to the attention of Mr. Christian Grey.

You agree to the terms of any contract signed by yourself for Mr. Christian Grey - Please see Terms and Conditions.

You agree not to change any terms of signed contracts by yourself for Mr. Christian Grey.

Anastasia Steele (s) Signature:

Date:

Non Disclosure Agreement

- Between

Christian Grey – First Party

Anastasia Steele – Second Party

Both Parties agree to the following

Truth

Trust

Non Disclosure of any information

Never to seek legal advice from another party outside of Darks Lawyers

Agree to working hours set in employment contracts

Agree to travelling for work

Agree to hotels and/or other sleeping accommodation regarding the working environment - if necessary

Agree to all working functions

Agree to finish all cases appointed to you by Darks Lawyers - Please see Terms and Conditions

Working and personal relationship

Personal Information gathered -_The Second Party_.

Female graduate in Criminal Law.

Mother and Father living.

No account of Brothers or Sisters.

Single, never married, never engaged and not currently living with a partner.

No account of children or aborted children.

Never given blood.

Never received a blood transfusion.

No tattoos.

No recognizable birth marks.

No mental or physical illness.

No criminal convictions.

Full UK drivers licence.

You_ Anastasia Steele_ agree that the information gathered in this document is truth, all truth and nothing but the truth.

Both Parties agree to all terms - never to add or change once signed - including Terms & Conditions.

Date of Non Disclosure agreement not issued.

This Non Disclosure agreement is indefinite.

If/when the second party breaks this Non Disclosure Agreement, the first party can take legal action for all obtainable assets from the second party and/or any person/s responsible for the second party.

To Agree-

Christian Grey Signature: C, Grey,

Date: 09/03/2012

Anastasia Steele Signature:

Date:

My mouth dries as I finish the contracts - to say they consume my thoughts' would be an understatement! Personal relationship? What the fuck is that for - why have that in a contract? I push the contracts to the side with little effort - I don't even bother to read over the terms and conditions. I sluggishly lift my elbows' onto my desk and cup my face with both of my hands. What on earth does he hope to achieve from the contracts? There is an alternative reason for them I know it. I have never in my life read an NDA like that before! 'Agree to work functions', 'sleeping arrangements'. What does he think is going to happen - he tells me there is miraculously only one bed, so I have to share it with him? I don't think so! If he's not careful, I will treat him to his own hobby - I will smack his backside and give him a red arse! Hmmm, maybe I should spank him, maybe it would knock some fucking sense into that ambitious brain of his! I close my eyes and sit back in my seat trying to gather my momentous thoughts but I hear low voices - one of them is male. My breath hitches as I watch Mr. Grey slowly glide through the reception area towards his office. Why does he have to be so damn hot! If he was just a little less good looking, maybe I would have the upper hand, maybe I would tell him where to go, but ohhh no, he is smoking hot and don't we all bloody know it! I try to busy myself as he stops outside of my office. The cirque du soleil have made another surprise visit - they swish and sway in my tummy as my nerves plummet! _Please don't come in here!_ My conscience and I finally agree on something! I swivel around in my chair, facing the huge window. I close my eyes to try and calm myself before I boil over; my mind is bubbling and pondering over this man! Ugh!

I hear my office door open. I jump out of my skin leaning forward in my chair. I slowly turn, feeling like an idiot - if he sees me sneaking a peek like this, he will either laugh or tell me to get a grip! _Phewww,_ thankfully it's just Jezebel. She's a very gorgeous young girl; young being the operative word. Asian with the darkest lustful eyes and obviously brunette, _obviously!_ I don't like her rudeness, but, we are now working together, so I suppose I will have to try and get along with her.

"Miss Steele, here are the papers you require to get started on the Timothy Allen case."

"Timothy Allen case?"

"Yes, this is your first real case, submitted to you by Mr. Grey himself; Mr. Grey has made all the necessary arrangements for you regarding PI's and the already gathered evidence. It is all here Miss Steele."

"Thank you. You can call me Anastasia."

"Actually I cannot Miss Steele. Mr. Grey would have my guts for garters if I were to address you by your first name." She replies shrugging her shoulders. I'm sort of relieved that it isn't only me he has that effect on. Her choice of words catch my attention, 'guts for garters', I'm sure I used them exactly to express the punishment worry I could possibly suffer from Mr. Grey - and I know he wants to spank me, he said as much. I roll my eyes at the thought.

"Are you okay Miss Steele?"

"Yes, sorry. Please leave the papers and I will get right on them."

She stands uncomfortably fidgeting, almost biting her nails, twirling her lose strand of hair around her index finger - it's flipping annoying.

"Is that all?" I ask, hoping to get rid of her.

"Miss Steele, have you signed your contracts? Mr. Grey would like them immediately."

I flush red, annoyed yet, delighted.

"No, please tell Mr. Grey I will have my lawyer look over them and I will have them ready for him tomorrow."

"Um, er, you are only allowed a member of this law firm to look over them Miss Steele. Mr. Grey insists."

"Is that even legal?" I ask knowing the answer.

"I am not sure it really matters Miss Steele. Mr. Grey makes the law this end of the world, so maybe you should take it up with him." She replies as she leaves my office.

Oh I will take it up with him! I'm ready, ready to bust his balls! He cannot boss me around yet, I haven't signed anything!


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

I STORM OUT OF my office after Jezebel leaves. I'm reeling and I'm ready with confidence and a clear agenda - but as I edge closer to the lion's den, my anxiety levels hit an all new high. Jesus, I'm baking up big time! I feel my cheeks with both sides of my hand. I definitely feel hotter than normal - bloody hell! Can I really do this? _You have gone too far to renege now! Chicken Shit!_

Once I reach his office, I stare at the huge white door. My mind blanks - I am so flipping hot that I must be as red as he would like my behind to be! Ugh! I try my very best to gather myself, and although I feel like I have been struck down with the flu, I manage to pull myself together.

I aim to knock on his office door but opt for the element of surprise - maybe if I catch him off guard, it will give me the upper hand. I walk in with my head held high but it's soon hanging low as I register five men seated and having coffee with Mr Grey.

Shit, he isn't alone! Now what do I do? _Back up, back up!_ My conscience screams.

"Sorry Mr Grey, I assumed you would be alone."

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement, as do the other gentlemen's.

"Your apology is not necessary - I can have my office empty in no time at all if you wish Miss Steele?" He encourages.

I try to speak but not before I flush puce once more. How the hell can he speak so provocatively in front of his clients?

"No, please, not on my account. I will see you once you are finished."

I turn to leave, quicker than usual - if he comes after me, I'm insuring I have a head start! I steel a glance down the lobby from behind me, wondering if he's following me - thankfully he isn't, and I practically run back to the safety of my office. _Safety is an overstatement. He fucking owns it!_

I slowly slip into the comfort of my seat and breathe a huge *sigh* of relief, thankful for the fact that, in the end, I didn't have to confront him. I mean really, what the hell came over me? I should have known I would blank in his presence. I feel defeated as I open the folder to my first case on the job; indefinitely knowing there is not much I can do about Mr Grey and his obscene contracts. My brain freezes as I open the folder - Timothy Allen, accused of 'Marital Rape'. I swear the first floor of this building must hear my chin hit the desk as I register this case. My memory serves me right.

'What was your first year subject?' Mr Grey asked.

'Marital Rape Sir.' I replied.

Is this a big joke to him?

My office phone rings making me jump and I drop the damn folder on the floor.

"For God sake!" I curse.

I put the phone to my ear but I don't greet the caller - I'm paranoid that it could be Mr Grey.

"Miss Steele, Mr. Allen would like to book an appointment with you for tomorrow."

Thank God it's only Jezebel.

"Please book him in for one-thirty."

"Okay, I will. Also Miss Steele, you have a parcel."

"A parcel? Who is it from?"

"It doesn't say."

"Could you please bring it in?"

"I will shortly Miss Steele." She replies and hangs up.

I get up out of my seat and scoop up all the papers. I spend over forty-five minutes sorting the damn structure. Once everything is in order, I quickly glance over the paperwork before I start, mentally preparing myself for what is to come. My heart sinks when I read that Mr. Allen is accused of raping his wife, six times in one night. Jesus Christ. I shake my head wondering why Mr Grey gave me this case - if he gave it to me as a gesture that he has taken note of my studies, it's in poor taste.

I glance at my watch and see it's lunch time - should I go down to the cafeteria and eat, or stay here? Hmmm, I'll eat here - I have apples in my briefcase - hopefully I can focus better and get more work done at the same time if I stay in my office.

Throughout the rest of the day I try to focus and work, but I'm shamefully distracted, looking between the papers and my office window - I find myself wondering why Mr Grey has not come to see me yet? Maybe he's playing hard to get? I scoff at the thought - I invented that game! Oh get a grip Anastasia! I admonish, knowing that my two minds are counteracting one another. The last time I saw that Bastard, he was charging into my apartment - I should have kicked him and his job to the curb! But nooo, I'm sitting in one of his offices not that bloody far from him like a weak miserable sun of a bitch! What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I just stand up to him without falling apart? I seriously need to grow some balls if I have any chance of surviving here. Once I have finished giving myself a good talking to, I decide to finish up before I'm stuck here all night long.

My office door opens to Jezebel holding a bright red box. It's the size of a lamp table. What on earth is that? She places it in the centre of my office.

"Thank you Jezebel."

"No problem Miss Steele."

She leaves, but not before I'm on my feet. I gently untie the beautiful red bow that dresses the electric red tissue paper. I rip the paper off because I'm no longer able to contain my curiosity. I'm utterly flabbergasted to find a huge wooden horse, hand crafted so perfectly from old dark wood. What the fuck is this?

I walk around the wooden horse for about ten minutes, truly mystified. This has to be Mr Grey. I cannot help myself. I text him immediately.

To: Unknown

Thank you for the gift It's lovely.

His reply is instant. I don't even stress about the reply because I am almost one-hundred percent sure it's from him.

From: Unknown

I have not sent you a gift. What is it? Was it sent to your office?

Okay, now I'm curious, and confused. If it wasn't him then who the hell was it? I don't text him back, I try to put the horse out of my mind. I get back to work.

I have read half way through Mr. Allen's case - there is so much information that even I struggle to keep up. It's now nearly six-thirty - the day has flown by. I'm ready for home. I will take the case papers with me and read the rest in bed. I bend under my desk to grab my briefcase and I'm alarmed by the deep voice that fills my office.

"Best view in the building."

"Mr Grey." I reply shocked. I bang my head on my desk rushing to get up.

"Shit!" I curse.

He rushes over to me with a worrying expression ruining his beautiful face. He takes me by my arms to steady me, holding me tighter than necessary.

"Are you okay Anastasia?"

Fuck he cannot touch me! I'm already suffering with Grey flu as it is. What's he trying to do - kill me?

"Yes, I'm fine."

I snatch my arms back, probably looking annoyed - I'm not though, I just cannot control myself when he touches me. My natural thermostat fiddles out!

"You shouldn't just barge into people's offices Mr Grey."

"Maybe you should practice what you preach, Miss Steele." He jokes. _Maybe you should stop being such a Bastard! _

"What do you want?"

"You wanted me, you barged into my office." He reiterates and I lose focus.

"Oh, yes, um. To be honest, I cannot remember what I wanted." I answer stupidly.

"Maybe my presence will slowly refresh your memory."

"Eh, I doubt that."

We stand awkwardly - well, I stand awkwardly, not him - and we gaze at one another. Fuck he looks good - like always - he's wearing a raven black suit. The expensive material looks shiny and soft. He has matched it with a blood red tie. I know the colour is to ooze power. I wonder if he has worn black as a gesture to my wearing black for one week? I realize I'm gawping as I eye him up and down. Once I reach his face and register a glimmer of a smile, I immediately lower my head, feeling embarrassed and worried that he can see I fancy him.

"Is that the gift?"

"Sorry?" What is he talking about?

"The horse." He points to the wooden horse.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I have no idea why I thought you sent it."

He stares passively at the horse. His eyebrows are creased. His mouth is set in a hard line. For some reason I sense anger from him.

"Are you okay, Mr Grey?"

"Hmmm, yes. Have you ever heard of the old saying - never accept a gift from a Greek?"

"Um, no. Why?" Okay, now he has my full attention.

"Do you like your office Anastasia?" He changes direction as he slowly starts to pace inside my safety zone, penetrating my mind as he eyes me shrewdly.

"Sir, what do you mean by that old quote?"

"Answer the question Anastasia."

_Bastard!_

"Er, yes I do, but I don't like the floor. White granite would suit me nicely but this will do - the lack of privacy is also a little much." I joke.

He walks past me - just inches away from my body. He sits his perfectly gorgeous backside on my desk, never breaking eye contact with me. He opens the left draw to my desk, revealing a remote control. He presses a button and all the office windows turn frosted silver. He reveals a back breaking smile, exhilarated that he has pleased me. I swallow hard, knowing he's trying to satisfy me, and also knowing we are now in complete privacy, _double crap!_ Suddenly, he strikes me down further - quiet gentle music fills the room, sweetly singing, Otis Redding - These Arms Of Mine. I shake my head, giving him a firm, 'REALLY', expression. This is so bloody cheesy, but why the hell do I like it?

"Better?" He asks, wearing a glaring smile - he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Better." I repeat motionless.

I'm not acknowledging the music though, if he only knew what Otis does to me, it would become his party trick. I cannot stay here with him, I'm worried I will do something I will live to regret.

"I have to go." I urge. I try to step forward, but he holds his hand out firmly in front of me, stopping me from taking another step. I stop dead before he physically touches me. I look down at his hand trying to tell him to fucking move it in unspoken words but I become spellbound. Wow, his nails are in better condition than mine! His fingers are so long, his nails are so perfect! And his hands are huge! I wonder if that old saying is true? _'big hands, big cock'_. Hmmm, it probably is - he must have the full package, right?

"Well?" He asks as he retracts his hand, placing it neatly on his lap. He entwines his fingers together. Fuck, what did he say? I honestly need to get a grip, I'm a deafening mess around him, constantly missing what he says!

"You have me at a loss Mr Grey."

"Your contract."

"Oh, yes. That's why I want you, I mean, wanted you."

Shit, did I say that! I stare up at him dumbstruck, meeting his eyes - they are alight with amusement.

"You want me? That is very unexpected, Miss Steele."

My mouth is agape but I have no words.

"Your contract will do for now - we can deal with our personal issues later." He smiles.

OUR PERSONAL ISSUES! Wow! His words cause me to feel more Grey flu symptoms - tingles, blurred vision, dizziness, breathlessness - the list is endless! _Get a grip before you faint Gooden! And close your damn mouth, you are not catching flies!_

"Why can't I have my own lawyer check over the contracts and that NDA?"

Yes, here we go - now I have found my balls! Maybe if I keep this about work and not his bizarre behaviour, I will have a chance of staying in control.

"What do you want to know? I will tell you anything, and I will tell it honestly." He says.

"Yeah right!" I scoff.

"Anastasia, what do you want to know? You should trust me and my opinion. I am one of the best lawyers in the country."

I want to laugh out loud - I hope he's ready for this, I have a damn list!

"I want to know why you so thoroughly checked into my background; I want to know what that damn NDA is all about; and I want you to stay a safe distance from me!" I snap overly annoyed.

"Anastasia." He sighs as he rubs his forehead. "I have not mentioned Saturday. I have given you a promotion because I trust your character, and I trust you. I have not once come into your office - in fact, you penetrated my space, I have tried to keep a safe distance from you. I think all this over exaggeration is in your head." He answers with raised eyebrows, looking at me with such an innocent expression.

I take considerable notice to what he has said. I'm just not sure if I can trust him, not after what he did - coming to my apartment like that. I find him so frustrating. His gorgeousness and his alluring words compel me to almost do things I would not normally do. But maybe he's right. Maybe this is all me. Maybe his actions are what normal people do when they like someone - become obsessed and do whatever it takes to win them over. I know he likes me, he told me he does - and I know I like him, who wouldn't? I just have to stop over analysing everything he does.

"Anastasia, I have to put it out there - why wear white now?" He says smiling.

I look at his warm expression, knowing how I feel about him - the gut wrenching emotion suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks as I force my negative thoughts away. I let go of everything I mentally believe, I let go of my own tension.

I sit next to him on the desk, gently seating myself beside him. His hand is _right_ next to mine. Not only can I see it, I strangely feel it. He's holding the desk with too much effort, just like I am. I smile to myself knowing I'm holding the desk in a tight grip because I'm nervous, why is he? Surely this powerful man isn't nervous in my company? I look at him, smiling like an idiot, knowing I'm going to try and see past everything I sense from him.

"When I dressed this morning, I didn't even realize I dressed myself in white." I joke.

He leans closer to me. His scent makes me feel heady.

"Well, you look lovely in anything you wear." He whispers into my ear.

I can feel his warm breath on my neck. I unexpectedly touch my neck where his breath caressed me. My hand trembles.

I eventually gather myself. I look up at him rolling my eyes.

"Just so you know, I'm too smart to be seduced by you." I joke. I squint my eyes at him, forcing a firm expression. He leans his head to the side once more, so he can see me fully - his back a little hunched, his eyes low and glazed.

"That's why I like you." He whispers.

I blush, shaking my head - no matter how many times he tells me he likes me, the affect is always the same - flutters endlessly dancing around my tummy.

"Did you change your bizarre clothes rule because of me?" I ask, looking right at him.

"Of course, why else?"

Wow, I was not expecting that - such a simple answer but it means so much more. I gaze at him, for more than a few seconds, wondering how things between us are going to pan out - but I know the only way to really find out is to let the chips fall where they may.

"If I sign the contracts and work hard, do you promise not to stalk me again?"

"Stalk you!" He laughs looking shocked.

"Yes, you know, when an almost stranger orders you to lavish parties and then shows up at your apartment trying to force a romantic situation." I joke.

"Ahhh, yes. I think I know what you mean. I will have to look it up later." He smiles.

"Well, it means this."

I jump off of my desk and motion my hand for him to scoot along so I can Google the definition. He doesn't move, he shakes his head - firmly telling me 'no' while smiling. I'm forced to lean over his long legs to type on my keyboard. While typing, I sneakily steel a sniff of his gorgeous spicy scent - this heady intoxication never gets old. I love how he smells. I wonder if he would linger on my naked skin if he were to touch me?

"Well?" He says, forcing me back from my delicious daydream.

I quickly glance back at the screen, realizing I was staring at his legs - damn it!

"Stalking is unwanted or obsessive attention by an individual or group toward another person. Stalking behaviour is related to harassment and intimidation and may include following the victim in person or monitoring them."

"So my behaviour is unwanted?"

Do I like his attention? Hmmm, when he's nice like this I do, but not when he goes into alpha overdrive - trying to demand everything he desires.

"Answer the question, Mr Grey." I repeat his own line.

"I cannot promise anything like that when it comes to you, Anastasia." He says serious.

"You do know stalking is illegal?" I joke.

"Call the Police, I will confess. I'm guilty for wanting you so badly." He gestures with his hand placed flat against his heart.

Oh my!

My phone alarm suddenly interrupts us singing, Brittany Spears, Oops I did It Again. Reminding me that my mother will be calling tonight at eight. I flush so damn red that you wouldn't see me between tomatoes, embarrassed by my choice of music and his confession.

"Nice ring tone." He jokes as he gently takes me by my waist, forcing me to a standing position. I didn't realize I was still leaning over his legs towards the computer. His hands are so large, they almost swallow up my waist. I move back from him, unexpectedly shuddering at the contact - he literally sends strange vibes throughout my body.

"Are you okay?" He whispers as he stands tall next to me, hunching his head to look down into my eyes at my reaction - I think.

"I have to go home. It's getting late."

"Can I offer you a ride?"

I raise my eyebrows, deliberately shooting him an expression of, uneasiness, desire, desperfuckinration!

"Please don't look at me like that Anastasia, you have no idea what it does to me. The underground is not safe at such an hour. I would feel a lot better if you would just accept a lift - I will not accompany you if it makes you feel better."

"Don't you need your car?"

"Anastasia, your safety is more important than mine."

"No it isn't!"

"It is, Anastasia."

"No, it isn't. You cannot decide who is more important out of the two of us."

"Don't argue with me Anastasia, you will force me to do something that I do not think you are ready for."

"And what exactly is that?" I ask brave, challenging him.

"Princess, if I told you, I would have to marry you, or kill you."

I stare at him wide-eyed, completely flabbergasted. I'm not sure what effects me more - me and marry, or me and murder - in the same sentence.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle the likes of you." I joke, desperately trying to hide my affronted expression.

"Yes, you are." He whispers to himself. He scratches his stubbly chin in deep thought - what's he thinking?

"Don't be scared Anastasia." He says as he looks down at me, shooting me an unorthodox glare.

"Why would I be scared?"

He animalistically clears my desk. I watch as all my papers effortlessly float like feathers, making their way to the floor - damn him! It took me ages to arrange them! He clears my desk further. Next are my pens, individually hitting the floor with quiet clinks, and my colour coded sticky notes follow. Everything seems as though it's happening in slow motion, or not really happening at all! Surely I have fallen asleep in my office and I'm dreaming this?

Before I register another a thing, I'm firmly bent over - my left cheek is kissing the desk! He has my hair in a tight grip, forcibly holding me in place. The pain is only just bearable. I feel strands of my hair pinching at my skull.

Holy fucking shit!

He groans, "hmmm."

I feel his hand at the back of my neck above my collar. His fingers feel electric on my naked skin. They send arousing vibes to course throughout my body, forcing me to feel a strange pleasure deep within me. He slowly glides his way down the centre of my back. Every inch he covers effects me differently - it's like I have carnal pressure points all the way down my spine. He stops at my backside. He gently strokes around in circles, causing an extraordinary tingling sensation, _down there_. The muscles that tighten inside me feel alien. He moves to the other side and repeats the same movement, around and around, caressing every inch of my derriere. He unexpectedly squeezes me and his nails dig deep into my flesh through my trousers. Oh shit! That feels... sort of good! I clench my inner muscles tighter than necessary as a euphoric feeling instantly hits my groin! Fuck! What is that?

He groans loud, making my ear drums vibrate.

"Ahhh."

The pinching sensation mixed with his affected tone makes me feel rouse, stimulated. I squeeze my tummy muscles again at the sudden glorious rush that hits my clitoris - oh my! What's happening to me?

His hand is suddenly gone from my backside, allowing me to relax. I acceptingly lay flat against my cool wooden desk, limp and almost lifeless. His breathing unexpectedly turns harsh. His fiery energy hits me like a thunder bolt, causing me to stiffen my entire body. Oh no! Is he going to spank me?

"Perfect, now, lay your palms flat on the desk above your head. I'm going to unzip your trousers and pull them down, then, I will peel your underwear off, slowly. Once you are naked from the waist down, I want you to spread your legs for me, Anastasia."

Okay, now I know I'm not dreaming!

I ignore his request, leaving my arms limply hanging down by my sides, wondering what he will do if I just hide under his shadow.

"Anastasia, would you like me to fuck you, or would you like a ride home?"

My heart is pounding so viciously, almost breaking free from my rib cage at my sudden delirium! Hopefully I can make it home before I die of a heart attack!

Do I want a lift or do I want to have sex with him? Oh, I don't know! Maybe I should go home and think this over, he will still be here tomorrow.

"Um, a, er, lift, shall, will be great, tha, thank you Sir - if it's, um, okay?"

"Of course it is - good girl." He says soft.

He unexpectedly leans his crotch into me, pressing himself against my backside. Oh my God, he has an erection! It's bone hard and almost ripping its way into my trousers!

"Ahhh," he moans again. His voice is husky deep. His tone is shattering.

"Oh Anastasia, I'm desperate to feel your slick arousal completely covering my dick. Please let me fuck you." He begs.

"Mr Grey, I," I whisper in a panic, not knowing what to say.

This is so erotic. I cannot believe he's this aroused by me. I haven't even touched him! Suddenly, he pulls a little too hard on my hair, forcing me to stand on jelly legs. Whoa, I was not expecting that! He strangely starts twirling me like a ballerina, using my hair and his hand to create the motions - round and around, and around, until he wants me to stop. He grabs my left arm, forcing me to a halt. Once I'm frozen in place - facing him and feeling slightly dizzy - he drops my hair free. I feel every strand hit my back as I become extra aware. Fucking hell, I'm so aroused! I squeeze my legs together. I notice I feel wet,_ down there_! That's what he wants covering his dick! Oh my God!

He quickly distracts me - stopping me from squeezing my legs together. He trails his thumb down my cheek, almost scratching my face with his sharp nail, but I don't care - the sensation that's running throughout my body is enough to shield his rough touch. He moves down towards my lips, slowly. He grabs my bottom lip and pulls down. His lingering trail on my face burns. It ignites me inside.

He suddenly drops his hand down to his side with too much force.

"Get home safely Miss Steele."

Whoa, what? Is he kidding me? Because I cannot tell. He smiles, knowing what he has done to me. I think I want him, now! But I'm too chicken shit to beg him to take me over the desk. I stare up at him, hoping he can read my mind, _please!_ His glazed stare burns into me. His eyes are such a dark shade of blue, they are almost black - hmmm, he looks delectable!

"Until tomorrow Miss Steele." He says, smiling like the cat who almost got the cream.

I tilt my head to the side, taking mental inventory - he is one beautiful man.

"Until tomorrow, Mr Grey." I gasp as I release the breath I was unknowingly holding.

He gestures me with a salute sign and turns on his heel. He reaches the door and stops to take one last look. He smiles at me, so dirty while he bites his bottom lip. I see a glimmer of triumphant in his expression. He licks his lower lip, showing more of his tongue than necessary. He causes an affliction to immediately affect my nervous system. Fuck he's got to stop that!

He turns opening the door, and before I know it, he's gone.

Once he's out of sight, I stand smiling to myself, touching my lips, stroking my hair that he touched. What the hell just happened?

I quickly pack up all my paperwork that completely dresses the floor - not that it bothers me - I will file papers all damn day if I can have an evening like that again! Once everything is back in place, I leave my office. I daydream while I walk through Darks Lawyers until I reach the outside. The fresh coolness of London hits me like a ton of bricks. Oh I need this, it helps bring my temperature down, a little.

I immediately spot a beautiful black Bentley parked at the curb with an impeccably dressed driver. The driver immediately gets out of the car.

"Miss Steele?" He says.

"Yes, Sir."

"I am Jonathan - I will be driving you home Miss."

Impeccably dressed and delightfully polite. I smile fondly.

"Thank you Sir."

He opens the back passenger door for me and half bows as he motions for me to enter. I slide in instantly becoming head drunk as Mr Grey' essence hits me, almost stopping my breathing - fuck this man smells good, almost good enough to eat! The car is gorgeous. It has polished cream leather seats with a pinstripe design; small televisions perfectly fitted into the head-rests and cheery tree mahogany wooden door panels - I could get used to this car!

"Ready Miss?"

"Um, yes Sir, do you know my address?"

"I do."

Of course you do, or should I say - of course Mr Grey does, he presumably knows everything!

Still to come -

Chapter 8,9,10,11,12,13 -

Will be uploaded daily guys. Happy reading!

Find A L Gray on twitter or Facebook


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

I SLUGGISHLY EMERGE into Darks Lawyers tired and lethargic, and I wonder how I made it out of bed as I almost float into the lift. I hardly slept last night, I couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Grey bending me over my desk - I mean, who would be able to sleep after that? Him telling me he wanted to fuck me gave me amnesia! I think I managed all of three hours sleep, and that came after endless amounts of tossing and turning. I was also thinking of my mother and how long I will have to wait for another call from her - damn me and my time management! She will take months to write and inform me when she will be calling again, I know it!

"I must not think of her, I must not think of her!" I admonish myself, remembering my promise to her - to forget her until the time comes when we will be together again.

The lift pings open on the top floor and I stare stupefied, all my hindrance thoughts suddenly vanish. I'm now officially awake!

There are around ten workmen here, all in their electric lime jackets. They look like they are all covered in a fine sheet of white dust. They have removed the Masonic floor and are replacing it with a new one that is not a chess board affect, it's white, pure white - no hidden secrets, no statement to be told, just a gorgeous shiny white granite floor that stretches the entire length of the lobby. It makes the hall seem so much bigger. This is insane! As I saunter through the lobby, everyone stares at me, whispering between themselves with confused expressions on their faces - why are they staring at me? I wonder if I have fuzzy hair? I quickly run my fingers over my hair but stupidly realize I have it tied back in a tight bun atop of my head - no, it cannot be my hair. I stop looking at the floor and the gawping workmen as I try to gather myself. When I do, I'm hit with another bolt of shock as I register the Olympian God paintings. Holy fucking shit! Mr. Grey has moved all the Greek Goddess paintings into the lobby, and not only that, he has paired all the paintings in impeccable order! The Gods are married to their wives. The daughters and sons follow to create the power hierarchies - Zeus and Hera strike me down first. Strangely, the only painting that's specifically placed near an object or a person is Hera. She's hung above Jezebel? That's bizarre. While I eye Jezebel, I notice for the first time ever that she's dressed in a fine shiny red suit with her long dark hair generously hanging down her back. She looks gorgeous, but different - she's too young to be pairing herself with such an adult outfit. As I walk further into the lobby - towards Mr. Grey office knowing I need to speak with him about all this - I notice other Gods have been added. I stare at Apate wondering why in the bloody hell do all the Goddesses have blonde hair? Literally every single one!

I reach Mr. Grey office and notice the walls next to his door are naked, apart from a small painting above the door. Eros - that's more bizarre than Hera being hung above Jezebel - and why the hell is the entire lobby flooded with the Gods, apart from around his door? There is also the number eight above his door written in Roman numerical, painted in black. Jesus I'm too tired for all this.

I try to open his door but it's locked - damn him, where is he? I quickly march back towards Jezebel - she's on the phone but I don't care that she's speaking to someone, I interrupt her.

"What the hell is going on?"

She covers the phone speaker with her hand.

"I have absolutely no idea. Last night Mr. Grey decided to change the appearance of Darks Lawyers and called in the workmen within half hour of you leaving." She exaggerates. I sense bitching from her.

I stare dumbfounded, ignoring her attitude. I said I hated the floor, and I mentioned the paintings before. I lean against the reception desk for support, not knowing what to say.

"Where is Mr. Grey, Jezebel?"

"He is out on business Miss Steele, he will be back later for a meeting."

Damn him, always so quick to make a grand gesture, never around to explain his motives - like most men!

"Is my office okay to work in?"

"Yes it is."

I leave Jezebel and her stinking attitude. I slowly walk to my office. While walking back through the lobby, I cannot help but take another analytical glimpse of everything. I also cannot believe how the simple change of a floor can make a vast area feel so different. Everything up here always felt light and airy but cold and calculated. Now it feels warmer, more tranquil - the paintings add so much colour with the fierce expressions of the Gods and the watery pallets. Although I think it looks better, I have this nagging feeling that the new appearance is trying to tell me more than meets the eye initially - and I find it flipping annoying!

I suddenly stop outside of my door. I take note that the sparse appearance is exactly the same as Mr. Grey. The walls for around four foot each side are naked, apart from a small painting above my door, Astraea - holy shit! And the number eleven is under the painting, also written in Roman numerical, in exactly the same position as Mr. Grey' number eight.

"What the hell is going on?" I say out loud.

"Sorry Love, you alright?" A man with a smoky croaking voice asks.

I turn to look at him. His warm deep green eyes meet me first, telling a sad story with his rheumy gaze that instantly catches me off guard. He must be around fifty - maybe fifty-five - too old to be working such a hard job. The retiring age should be lowered! Damn the government and their scheming projects to make money off decent normal people!

I smile benevolent at him, "yes, sorry. Have you been offered tea or coffee?"

"No Love, but it's okay, I'm good."

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, I don't wanner put you out Love." He says as he gets to his feet. He holds his back as though he's struggling to stand tall. His face screws up with an overpowering expression - he's in a lot of pain, I can tell.

"Please, let me get you all some drinks," I say firm, "Jezebel?" I call over to her.

"Yes Miss Steele."

"Could you please get some coffee and tea for the workmen."

"Um, why?"

"Why do we need tea and coffee? Maybe for a break and to quench our thirst!" I snap.

She narrows her eyes at me for a few seconds, trying to test me. I return her gesture with my hands pressed firmly on my hips. She gives up and storms off towards the lift - her hair thrashes in rhythm with her stomping strides - she almost looks childlike. _Touché! _My conscience jokes.

I smile at the kind workman and turn on my heel. When I open my office door, I instantly notice the stunning white granite floor is followed through, accept my floor has gold flecks that reflect the sunlight so perfectly, bouncing around my office. I wonder if he put different flooring in here to show me that he sees that I'm different? A small gesture with such an impact. I stand smiling like an idiot as I also register the huge white curtains, commanding the ceiling to floor window, dressed in dropped swags and gold ties holding them back in a grand frame. The window looks so much more picturesque, and the curtains look so heavy - they must have cost a fortune. This is crazy, does he really do this for women?

A thought springs to mind, _Google that Bastard!_

I almost run to my computer. When it turns on, I feel like I'm stuck in the before waiting for it to load up.

"Hurry up God damn you!"

Finally, the Mac fires up and I immediately click on Google chrome. Hmmm, what should I look up? My mind is its usual self when it comes to Mr. Grey- it has gone blank! I type in - _Christian Grey/Darks Lawyers._ Everything anyone would presume to need to know comes up.

Loving husband.

Loving son.

Kind man.

Charity donator.

Bla, bla, bla…

Nothing juicy comes up and this is what I want to read, the juicy stuff - not the same old shit that everyone famous and rich are portrayed as. This is so frustrating! I decide to shut off the internet and get to work; reading what I already know is a bore and my client will arrive before I know it. I need to be on the ball.

I finish up reading the rest of the case bundle over the next few hours and before I know it, one-thirty arrives. I'm a little late; the overload of information is alarming. Mr. Grey has out-done himself. The way he has gathered his work is impeccable. I grab my notepad, all the necessary paperwork, and rush to the reception.

The lobby is annoyingly filthy - it's completely covered in dust, as am I! My trousers look grey because of the white sandy smut. Why couldn't he have waited until the weekend? I have to dodge the workmen that are scattered all over the floor. I also have to be careful not to trip over their tools - that would be my next less graceful entrance, as appose to calling Mr. Grey a damn Bastard!

"Is Mr. Allen here yet Jezebel?"

"Yes, he is in Mr. Grey office."

"What, why?"

"Do I look like a mind reader?"

_Snarky cow!_ I turn away from her - almost boiling over. I start walking towards Mr. Grey office, searching my mind, hoping for a clue as to what's going on. Maybe he told me something cryptic? Ugh, sometimes I find him so annoying! I cannot fathom what's happening.

I aim to knock on his office door, but think, fuck it - at least this time I know he's with someone, so I cannot be caught off guard.

I stroll in like this is my office - not his - confident and poised, but once I see he still has the Masonic flooring, I screw my face up wondering why he hasn't changed it in here? It also looks kind of sparse. The walls are empty. All you can see are sharp nails poking out every few feet. The desk now finally makes an impact with its beautifully crafted legs that almost look like real feet. It's still dangerously clear like before though - does he actually do any work? And if he does, where the bloody hell is all his paperwork? He doesn't have one filing cabinet in his office.

I smile and aim to greet Mr. Grey and Mr. Allen, but I'm unexpectedly ambushed!

"Is this her? Please tell me it isn't - she looks younger than my youngest daughter!" The client - who I'm assuming is Mr. Allen - snaps. _Just because you are pale, old and lacking a full head of hair, it doesn't give you the right to ridicule my youthful appearance!_ Oh I would love to tell him that! My conscience and I are surprisingly backing one another lately - I like it!

I stand embarrassed in the door way with heated cheeks. Mr. Grey smiles perversely at me. Oh no! He cannot look at me like that! I feel like he's purposely undressing me with his unorthodox eyes. Memories of him forcibly holding me flush against my desk pool unhealthily around my mind - his long fingers working their way down my back, his hard penis pressing against me - fuck! I cannot think like this, not now!

"This is Anastasia Gooden. I will be working alongside her on your case Timothy." Mr. Grey informs Mr. Allen, all the while his eyes are locked on me. I have no choice but to hold his gaze. His compelling eyes do the strangest things to me.

"I thought you didn't defend suspected rapists?" Mr. Allen asks baffled.

"I have been known to make an exception regarding my choices." Mr. Grey replies, still smiling at me. I think his answer has two meanings. I bite my lip at the sudden revelation.

"Oh really, when?" Mr. Allen asks curious, but Mr. Grey chooses to ignore his question.

"Please come in Anastasia, do not worry about Mr. Allen, he's teasing you."

Mr. Grey suddenly saunters towards me. His hands are hanging loosely by his sides; his jackets' open; his long strides almost make the floor bounce as he edges closer to me. He looks dapper and deliciously hot! He's wearing a fine three piece silver grey suit with a figure hugging waist jacket. His hair looks wet and pendulous, but I cannot be sure if it really is wet - it might be the sunlight that floods his office, shining onto every raven strand. Hmmm, maybe I need to run my fingers through his lustrous locks, he shouldn't walk around with damp hair, he could get ill. _Yeah, I don't think that is a good enough excuse to finger fuck his hair! _Really? I think it's my best excuse to touch him yet!

He comes close to me. I instantly hold my breath before I inhale his intoxicating scent - I have suffered wit Grey flu long enough!

He hunches his neck and affectionately gazes down at me.

"You look lovely. Why are you wearing white again?" He smiles.

Holy fucking shit! I glance down at my suit. I am beyond flabbergasted. My suit is one-hundred percent white! My God, this is going downhill - fast!

"I... I don't know. Should I go change? It will only take me an hour to go home." I give him a weak smile. I sink into my shoulders, shy, annoyed at myself - why oh why does this keep happening - why do I keep wearing white?

"Anastasia, you look stunning in whatever you wear. And please don't do that."

"Do what, Sir?"

"Fall into shy submission."

Oh my - did he really just say that? My eyes are agape.

"Ready?" He whispers.

He doesn't let me answer - not that I could even if he gave me the chance - he firmly slides his hand down the centre of my back. His touch sends euphoric vibes coursing throughout my vulnerable body. Fuck, I'm going to faint! He stops at the low of my back. He pushes a little hard, urging me to start walking. I take it upon myself to walk fast ahead of him, trusting my instinct to stop all physical contact while we are in the company of someone else.

Mr. Allen is perfectly sunk into the red leather sofa, looking old and lazy in his black leather trousers that he's too damn old for! I eye a bottle of wine in an ice bucket upon the mahogany coffee table. There are also two glasses. This time the glasses are not touching, in fact, they couldn't be further apart - why has he only set out two wine glasses?

There are only two chairs pulled out from the vast mahogany table - I'm now sitting in one of them. Mr Grey surprisingly doesn't sit next to me as I assumed he would, he sits on the red leather sofa, next to Mr. Allen. Fuck, now I feel like I'm on trial as they both eye me suspiciously...

Okay, I need to forget about the fact that Mr. Grey is analysing me. I need to find my inner-self and conduct this meeting accordingly.

"So, Mr. Allen. Did you rape her?" I ask completely out of the blue.

I watch as Mr. Allen's' and Mr. Grey' mouths drop the full twenty floors.

"Excuse me?" He snaps astonished.

Yes, I have got this! I smile knowingly. Mr. Grey tries to salvage the situation but I insist.

"As your lawyer - once you have signed our contract."

Mr. Grey passes me Mr. Allen's signed contract and smiles with curious raised eyebrows.

"Ah, yes. Very good - now you can tell me anything confidentially; you know legally I cannot breathe a word of what you tell me - unless you are confessing to a murder that you plan on committing in the future. The reason for my telling you this is because, I like to be prepared for anything, and if you are in fact guilty, I would automatically be ready for any nonplus later added evidence. Also, if you like, I can request that Mr. Grey leaves - for your satisfaction only though Sir."

Mr. Allen stares at me, completely stupefied. I feel elevated, pleased, and totally in control of the situation -finally!

"Mr. Grey can stay Miss Steele. I'm sorry about my rude judgement. I was..."

"Never mind the minor details Mr. Allen. We need to gather more evidence of the crime that you have been subjected to as a defendant; also, Mr. Grey and I need to mentally know what happened that night, just like you do. Can you please go over the night in question?"

Mr. Allen is all garrulous about the night in question. He forces he didn't rape his wife but I know different. My mother taught me how to read between the lines of a man's lies. Mr. Allen's voice slowly emerges into the background as Mr. Grey gets to his feet. He pulls the other chair next to me and positions it so close to the point that our chair arms are touching. Him and his damn gestures! I unknowingly stop writing to take a quick look at Mr. Grey. _NO!_ My conscience screams in my mind. She knows what will happen if I get lost in his eyes - we can kiss goodbye to smart Anastasia and say hello to the sappy side of me. He leans over my shoulder, almost touching my face with his. My breath hitches. His scent is overwhelming and his skin is just inches away, I could possibly lick his gorgeous masculine face.

"Write down everything, I'll fill in the blanks. You can be Alpha and I will be Omega; the beginning and the end finally come together." He jokes. I have no idea what he means, so I just continue to write and ask infilling questions.

Once we have all the information that Mr. Allen is willing to give us - which I might add isn't much - he gets up to leave. I hold my hand out to him. We shake as a gesture of goodbye.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Anastasia."

"Likewise, Mr. Allen." I say.

I sit back down in an uncomfortable position, constantly crossing my legs and pacing through my notes. Why don't I leave? I could avoid this irrational feeling that's overwhelming me. My pulse starts to race, beating one-thousand times per minute as I hear the office door close.

_Shit. _The lion and I are going to be alone when he returns!

Still to come -

Chapter 9,10,11,12,13 -

Will be uploaded daily guys. Happy reading!

Find A L Gray on twitter or Facebook


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

WHILE MR. GREY escorts Mr. Allen out of his office, I get to my feet. I passively stare at his office door, awaiting his entrance. I know I'm playing Devil's advocate by not immediately leaving but I'm so damn curious. I want to know his agenda, I want to know why he changed the appearance of Darks Lawyers - so badly!

He re-emerges. His presence is immediately potent.

"Fuck." I curse under my breath.

I quickly grab my throat while Grey flu infects my system without warning. I have no choice but to hold my breath, desperately trying to insure I don't inhale his essence. He saunters towards me, poised, controlled. One hand's placed neatly in his pocket, the other is straightening his dangerously immaculate tie. I stand very still. My gaze's fixed on him. His eyes are heady, influential - like allfuckingways when he has me alone! I immediately stop myself from gawping at him. The affect he's having on me is unhealthy - I mean, who feels feverish when they are in the presence of a man?

I quickly sink into the red leather sofa, mentally preparing myself for the next revelation - this could get messy, I know it!

"Comfortable?" He asks with an unreadable expression.

I flush at his open gesture. Does he mean comfortable as in - are you ready for me,or does he mean it because I look uncomfortable?

"Um very." I croak, "very."

"Ménage à Trois?" He asks and immediately offends me.

"No thank you!" I snap.

"It is wine Anastasia. I would never share you in a Ménage à Trois." He says serious.

Once again, I'm puce! _Ugh!_

"Oh, eh, yes please."

"It is not my choice of wine but it was a gift - and it looks good, so I will drink it. I try everything that looks delectable, at least once - regardless of the consequences."

I swallow hard and cannot help but think that we are talking about sex, _crap!_ What do I say to that?

"I try everything with caution. You can never be too careful these days. Even the most educated and respected person can be utterly deceiving."

He nods in satisfaction.

"Very good Anastasia - you may now accept the golden apple." He smiles thinking he has stumped me.

"I'm not Aphrodite, Sir."

"You knew that?" He asks stunned, "hmmm, but you are Anastasia. Every woman possesses traits of the Goddess. Everyone is programmed to be the same without even realizing. I will accept that you are definitely somewhat different though. That's why I like you." He says hunching his neck to look down at me.

His compliment does strange things to me - _down there_ - but I guess such a powerful man has this effect on many people, especially women. I peer up at him from beneath my eye lashes. I feel a little intimidated by him while he stands tall in front of me. I'm hoping he will take a seat next to me, so we can at least appear to be at the same level.

To my utter shock, he suddenly starts to unbutton his suit jacket, paying attention to every single button as he glides his way down his hard chest. Holy shit - I'm hit with a heady cocktail of his spicy aroma mixed with raw leather. I wonder what polish they use on this sofa? It's so... fruity, like lemon. _Hmmm._

Once he's finished opening his jacket, he lifts the wine bottle out of the ice bucket. He takes it at eye level so he can read the description - I think. I mouth-wateringly watch as water drips everywhere, all over his chest and his hand. The endless flow down his hand is forcefully erotic, like it's happening in slow motion.

"You're dripping." I say in a daze.

"That I am, Anastasia. Would you please pass me a napkin?"

I try to reply but I'm momentarily paralyzed by his wet shirt. It clings to his hard chest so perfectly. Oh my - I have the most powerful image flooding my mind. He's wet, soaked in glistening water. His hair is all tussled. His body's so shiny and soft.

"Anastasia?" He whispers, smiling secretively at me. I have a strange feeling that I'm not the only one with unorthodox images looming around my mind!

"Um, yes, sorry." I say.

I collect a crisp white napkin off of the coffee table - it's so soft, like cotton. I pass it to him with trembling fingers. He doesn't make physical contact with me while he takes the napkin, he just smiles, so perfectly, and leans his head to one side. _Hmmm_, he looks so damn good!

_Focus Anastasia!_

He drops the napkin back onto the table, it practically slides right through his fingers. He hasn't even wiped his shirt - why the bloody hell did he ask for the damn napkin if he doesn't want to use it?

He pours out the wine - one for each of us. I stare appreciatively while I watch him. His controlled elegance is mentally consuming.

"Here." He says as he passes me a glass.

"Thanks."

I sip the wine. It's garishly. It's cheap, with a deep taste of tangy grapes that haven't been aged properly - yuk!

"May I? He asks.

He takes my wine right out of my hands. He turns the glass so carefully so he can drink where I once drank - oh my! He licks the outside of the crystal where my lipstick lingers. He closes his eyes. He locks lips with the wine glass and takes a huge gulp. How in the bloody hell can he make drinking wine look so fucking erotic?

"Odious but delicious. It must be your essence." He smiles.

My mouth is agape - _REWIND, REWIND!_

He gently leans down towards me - I'm hoping he wants to taste my lips this time. Annoyingly, he passes me back my wine glass. I hold it with both hands, clutching to hard. I bite my lip as I decide on whether to lick the glass where he drank. Hmmm, I bet his spicy scent would taste much, much better than this crap wine.

For some reason, the air between us suddenly changes. I peer up at him. His face turns hard. His eyes become hooded. He's in deep thought.

"What do you want Anastasia?" He asks clipped.

His question rings my mental alarm bells.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why are you still here in my office when you should be working? You should at least try to obey your contract terms."

I feel disquieted, shocked! Why's he now being obtuse? Surely he must know that we need to discuss our previous meeting.

"Um, I thought we could go over the meeting. I'm a little shocked that you took the case as he is the defendant, and everyone knows you don't defend the accused. I also want to discuss why you gave me the case - and just to finish, I have not signed any contract, yet." I joke.

"No you haven't, why?"

"I haven't what?"

"Signed your contract."

I shake my head displeased - why's he answering my question with another question?

"Please answer my question Mr. Grey." I ask with angelic eyes, hopeful that I can disarm him.

"I took it to help you, it's that simple. You know, you could have left the notes, you got enough information that I can use to work with alone." He challenges.

"I thought we should discuss it together."

"Why?"

"Why? Because we are both on the case."

"Don't be coy with me Anastasia."

"Coy? I'm not being coy. I want to discuss the case, that's all."

"Anastasia, I can sniff out an agenda when I see one. Do you want me to fuck you now? Is that it - have you decided that you made a mistake turning me down last night?"

Holy fucking shit! This has to be the worst case of misinterpretation!

"No, yes - no, I mean..." I'm lost for words. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Well?"

"Well what?" I ask perplexed.

"Don't beat around the bush Anastasia, I am a very impatient man. What do you want - me, now, on this very sofa? You can either tell me your agenda, or you can leave!"

I place my glass safely on the table because my hands start to shake a little more due to my rising temperature. I have no idea what to say and he has officially pissed me off!

"You think to highly of yourself - it isn't all about you." I snap with an antagonized expression. I get to my feet and stand strong besides him.

"Am I wrong?" He challenges.

"Wrong about what? You know, you're not making much sense."

"Am I wrong about your agenda - do you want me to fuck you?" He smiles. His face is wicked, unholy.

"You know, if you took the time to really evaluate the situation, you would see that I'm genuinely trying to work."

I stand firm pointing my index finger at him. He walks past me, never looking at me. _Bastard!_

He sinks into the sofa, smiling like the devil himself.

"Oh, that must be what I missed." He jokes.

He leans back, descending deeply into the sofa. He crosses his legs, slowly. He starts to roll his index finger across his bottom lip. He stares at me, utterly amused with himself. He doesn't answer me, so I storm over to my papers and gather them off of the chair - scoffing and tutting to myself. I feel my body almost emerge into two, trying to duplicate and create numbers for war; I'm now Zeus and I'm ready to hang this Bastard in the sky!

"Prick!" I snap. I start walking towards his office door, annoyed, baffled and pique.

"Very elegant." He jokes.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself!"

I look around to quickly face him. I smile as he once did - _unholy_- Jesus he has caused a raging heat to burn inside me! I almost feel like trashing his office!

"Stop!" He commands, "turn around Anastasia." His words come singular, masterful.

I stop, but I don't turn around.

I don't understand him - last night he was so pleasurable and lovely, and now, he's being such an evil Bastard, but why?

"Turn, around, now. Do, not, defy, me, Anastasia!" He orders elongating every word again.

I quickly turn to face him - the gloves are coming off - I'm fucking fuming! I point my finger directly at him.

"I am not your submissive wife! I do not have to obey you in any form! God you are so annoying, and full of yourself! You are nice, rude, sweet, nasty, you are everything rolled into one Bastard and I cannot stand you sometimes!"

He suddenly boils over. His gorgeous blue eyes turn black. He quickly gets to his feet, faster than lightning. He almost runs at me with his arms held firmly down by his sides. His hair blows in every direction from his stomping speed - holy shit he looks scary! I drop my papers all over the floor. I rush to leave. I reach the door and open it a few inches but he instantly stops me. He slams it shut. He cages me in with his arms either side of my head, placed flat against the door.

His heady aroma hits me before his words do. Spice, old spice. The scent causes my brain to crash, my throat to burn, my heart to suddenly feel heated - fuck!

"Turn around." He orders because I'm facing the door.

I can feel his breath on my neck, sending cold shivers down my spine - I don't like this. I slowly turn, trying to hide beneath my eye lashes - a stupid move really. He looks formidable. It's only now that I realize I have tried to practically take on the devil - what an idiotic move. No one wins against Satan or his troops. I need to get out of here. I close my eyes, mentally escaping him. I try to think of my favourite princess movie to escape. Cinderella. I want to be her. I want to be somewhat normal and have the chance to meet my prince, not this head fuck!

An unanticipated sensation touches me, forcing my body to quiver. My eyes involuntarily spring open. He takes my chin between his index finger and his thumb. He gently lifts me to meet his eyes. His touch forces me to submit myself to a dark desire that I'm unknowingly desperate for - him. I look up at him. Worry lines my tummy, but as I gaze into his eyes, I'm relieved to see that they are soft, affectionate and crinkle free. I relax a little. I allow air to fill my momentarily deflated lungs.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

I don't know whether to answer him or not - will he get mad again?

"Okay." I squeak.

"You don't want me Anastasia."

I stare at him confused, trying to evaluate what he means. Is he trying to play mind tricks on me, by telling me I don't want something, knowing I will ultimately become desperate?

"Say something?" He says.

"If I answer you, will you get mad again?"

"No."

"How do you know what I want?"

He laughs bowing his head.

"I don't know what you want - I know what you shouldn't have. You call me Mr. fucking Grey, Anastasia. You don't even call me by my real name. You have no idea who or what I am. I'm no good for you."

"Is that why you keep pushing me away?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" He asks soft.

His eyes are so intoxicating - I'm not quite sure I can answer him properly while I drown in his blue lagoons.

"Yes," I whisper, "one minute you are pleasing by what you do for me - you offer me a promotion, you protect me, you take me home safely. The other side of you seems to want to warn me off - you man handle me, you talk to me with such a steely tone, you even take the piss by trying to intimidate me. I'm unbelievably confused by you."

He doesn't answer me, he just stares down at me. His face is impassive - I cannot tell if he's still annoyed or tranquil. The longer I stare at him, the more head drunk I become. Alcohol makes most people feel brave, but Grey intoxication does it for me once I have overdosed on his essence.

"You cannot tell me what I want Christian - I want what I want, not what you tell me to want." I elongate his name.

I have mentally promised myself that is what I will call him from now on, no matter what. I'm completely stumped as to how we got here - yes I fancy him, who the hell wouldn't? He is prepossessing, moreish and sexually compelling - all his addictive traits make me curious. The only thing I hate is his controlling issues and his double personality - but we all have our demons, whether they are control, sexual desires or addictions, we all have them.

"I'm sorry." He whispers again as he lowers his head in defeat.

He continues to hold my face between his fingers, but I now feel softness as appose to agitation - a caring emotion is radiating off of him, I find it calming.

"Anastasia." He breathes, "mirror, mirror, all around. On the ceiling, on the ground. Spinning faster, round and round. Are you up or are you down? Are you down or are you up? It really doesn't matter because when this mirror bubble bursts, everything will shatter."

His formidable rhyme scares the shit out of me. I gasp as all the air is knocked out of me.

"What was that?" I breathe confused.

"It is what happens to us all."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"What does that mean - 'it's what happens to us all'? I ask anxious.

He runs his controlled cold finger down my cheek, softly. He bites his lower lip with pure desperation written all over his face. It does nothing for me, I want to leave.

"Can I go please, Sir?" I almost beg. I'm shocked that I'm still standing, I feel as though I'm going to pass out any minute now.

"No, sit down Anastasia."

I think to question his authority but cave on the first idea. _Chicken Shit!_

I duck beneath his arms and walk back to the sofa. I sink into it relieved that I have some distance from him. Why do I feel confused? I suddenly feel ill, cold and utterly mystified by his words.

He slowly glides towards me. He isn't really looking at anything, he looks in a daze and he seems as though he's in deep thought. Once he reaches me, toe to toe, I think he's going to start something again as I peer up at him worried - he doesn't. He sinks into the sofa besides me. He turns to face me. His left arm clutches the back of the sofa. He stares at me and I gaze back, questioning the situation.

He unexpectedly grabs my face with a tight grip. Fear jolts throughout my system.

"What are you doing?" I squeak. I quickly grab his hand with both of mine.

"Are you comfortable here, with me?"

I swallow hard, wondering whether to tell him the truth or not.

"I don't know."

"You must know how you feel Anastasia."

"I'm torn between your mystical and troubling personalities. One minute we are talking business, joking with one another, the next we are arguing - you scared the shit out of me Christian."

"Don't be scared of me Anastasia, I would never hurt you."

"I'm not scared of anyone." I snap. I narrow my eyes at him - I'm trying to come across strong, because I am strong, usually.

"I could have sworn you told me that I scared you before, in your apartment - I guess I am mistaken." He smiles mischievously.

He releases my face and sits sombrely next to me - another personality is coming to surface soon, I'm sure.

Did I tell him that he scares me? I cannot even remember - holy hell, what's he doing to me?

"I'm having a party Friday," he says dour, "it's no occasion, I just throw a party once a month. I want you to accompany me. We have some important things we need to discuss Anastasia." He lowers his head, rubbing his forehead.

I stare agape - I mean literally every one of my facial features are agape. Is he actually for real? He wants to party after what has just happened? Holy shit! I honestly cannot keep up with him. I consciously know I should back away from him, he really is broken mentally_. You can say that again!_ It's like cruel intentions - he desires the game, but he consciously knows what he needs rather than what he wants.

"Christian, what just happened?" I whisper.

He looks up at me too quickly, his expression is glassy. I buck backwards into the sofa, worried he's going into Bastard mode again.

"You confuse me." He whispers.

"I confuse you?" I practically shout.

He nods slowly. His eyes seem to saunter closer to me, edging their way through the atmosphere.

"How on earth can I confuse the likes of you?"

"Anastasia, you are so closed off - I cannot ever tell what you are thinking, feeling, or even what you want to say."

"I think you are talking about yourself." I scoff.

"Maybe we are consciously, one." He says. He smiles with a weak defeated expression.

What a strange phrase to use, 'we are one'.

"Why Friday - why can't we discuss things now?"

"You need time to process today. Just know that I practice in control Anastasia, and not just in the way you assume. I have particular tastes and issues that do not always balance one another. Google me, see what is."

My face turns puce. My embarrassed smile's breaking through.

"I have Googled your name." I confess.

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. His smile almost reaches his eyes. _Thank the lord!_

"You need to search the right questions Anastasia. Do not just Google my name. If you still want to pursue, _u_s, text me on this number and I'll pick you up Friday at eight. "

He takes a business card out of his inside jacket pocket. He passes it to me, holding it between his index finger and his middle finger.

"I have your number." I say confused.

"Not my private number you don't. Only family has this. That was my business mobile I texted you off of. And there was no number, it was unknown."

I take his business card, sort of exhilarated - I cannot believe I now have his personal mobile number! _Result!_

Okay, now things have cooled down somewhat, I should try to get some answers.

"I still have questions Christian."

"We can discuss them Friday."

"No, I want to discuss them now," I say firm, "I cannot Google them like I can Google you, and I cannot wait until Friday." I confess childishly.

He seems as though he's getting comfy. He rests his elbow on the arm of the sofa. His other arm is resting behind the sofa's back.

"Fire away Princess."

Oh my God! I almost slap my own face to insure I haven't just imagined the last hour. How can he be so at ease after what has just happened? I'm hanging on the edge of my seat, LITERALLY!

"I want to know why you checked into my life so deeply; I want to know why I have to sign an NDA; and I want to know why you have taken this Mr. Allen case. Please, I need answers."

He leans towards me. He gently places his hand above mine - the fire that rushes throughout my body from his touch is thrilling. I was gripping the sofa so acutely - I didn't even realize I was doing so.

"Do you know how hard you make me when you ask me 'please'?" He asks, looking at me with a dark unreadable expression.

Fuck, what do I say to that? His word 'hard' has penetrated my mind, wounded me in the right way, forming a full eclipse over my eyes as I submerge into darkness.

"I erm, I…" I mutter - words have officially failed me.

He half smiles at my not so elegantly returned gesture. He releases my hand - the instant longing for his touch hits me like a ton of bricks. He gets to his feet and tugs at his jacket, straightening it out so formally. He runs his hands through his long locks, forcing his hair into submission. Hmmm, using both hands to control his appearance, this cannot be good!

"An NDA is not a huge obligation Anastasia, everyone in this building has signed one; yours has just been modified, somewhat. People who are sceptical regarding NDA's tend to over think things. I own the largest and most powerful law firm in the world; I have secrets that I do not want the media to have access to - so of course I would have my employees sign an NDA. If I didn't, I would seem reckless and moronic."

He does have a point. maybe I really am just over thinking it.

He saunters over to his desk and seats himself on the hard surface like a lion atop of his pride, smiling at his challenger. His hands are placed neatly in his lap. He's clutching at a controller - I think. Music suddenly fills the room. It makes me quiver. Sweet jazz, Otis Redding - A Change Is Gonna Come. It sends carnal vibes coursing throughout my body_._ I mentally come alive as desire pools around in my tummy.

"Do you like this kind of music Anastasia?"

I swore to myself that I wouldn't tell him how I love jazz! Nooo!

"I absolutely love jazz music Christian, you would never understand how it effects me." I smile and blush in sync.

I bow my head desperately trying to digest everything. This is so fucked up - one minute we are practically shouting at one another, and now, we are listening to sensual music! I steel a quick glance, taking note of his expression. He looks so beautiful, so, so beautiful, sitting upon his desk, looking powerful and alluring with his dangerously deep blue eyes penetrating me mentally.

"You look so pretty when you smile - that's the only time I ever see you without a haunted expression - when you smile."

What does he mean? 'A haunted expression'.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You look so young and innocent on first appearances, but when I take note of your eyes, you have a sadness in them. Something haunts you emotionally, and I think that sadness is buried deep inside you - I can see it in your eyes all the time Anastasia."

"Oh." Is all I manage - how does he do that?

"Dance with me Anastasia." He insists as he gets to his feet. He holds his hand out, gently urging my position.

"Why?" I gasp.

I'm going to pass out due to my dizziness! I cannot keep up with him.

"Because I want you to."

"It's the middle of the day, and we are at work."

"So because it's unexpected, does that mean we shouldn't do it? Should I write a law stating - people that are attracted to one another are allowed to dance throughout the day at work?" He jokes.

His words echo throughout my mind, 'people who are attracted to one another'. I smile with glee. I get to my feet and try desperately to exude confidence. I'm a killer dancer, maybe I can finally show him a thing or two. _Yeah, not likely!_

He slowly saunters towards me, in beat of the music with one hand in his silver grey jacket pocket. He comes flush against me, peering down at me. He takes my left arm, gently. His touch is deadly alluring. He pulls me close to his chest. I hear him inhale deeply - I mirror his action, smelling his intoxicating spicy scent - _hmmm_. He releases the breath he was holding and moans loudly.

"Hmmm."

I love how I affect him when he reacts to me like this. I cannot help but smile like a Cheshire cat.

"Follow my pace Anastasia." He whispers against my neck.

I follow him. I allow him to take the lead. We glide around his office in broad daylight, slowly, seductively, sensually. His hand his tightly gripping my waist, allowing a pinching sensation to constantly caress my insides. He pulls me to his pace, he never lets me lead. We reach his vividly colossal window. London looks small as I peer down from Christian's masterly grand office.

"You know Anastasia, I haven't danced with any woman except my mother." He confesses.

I look up at him shocked.

"Not even on your wedding day?"

"Not even on my wedding day." He says.

I have no idea what else to say - again, words literally fail me. I lean my head into him. I hear his breath suddenly hitch, like he can no longer breathe - what's wrong with him? I try to back away, I don't want to scare him off, but as my head retracts, his hand is lightly cupping me, gently forcing me back to position. I rest on his hard masculine chest, indulging in every inch of him. He makes me feel so... exhilarated and special.

"Will you come Friday?" He whispers gently into my ear.

"I think asking me to cum is a little extreme." I joke, finally getting my sexual vocabulary; it must be the Grey intoxication.

"Extreme is my middle name - one day you will see why." He laughs at his own witticism.

I shake my head at his tongue-in-cheek tone.

"Yes Christian, I will come."

The music slowly drains into the background on repeat. He stops, still holding me though, and finally breathes.

"You should go home Anastasia."

_Whoa. _

"I have to work, it's only around three o'clock." I say worried as I pull back from him.

"Work is done for today, let me take you home."

Does he want to get rid of me? Fuck it, I'm going all out - today cannot go any worse than it almost went earlier.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask firm.

He hunches his neck to look down at me. He narrows his eyes.

"If I had my own way, you would be taped to me. I would possess every inch of you. I have no idea what the hell you have done to me, but I cannot get enough of you, and I haven't laid a damn finger on you - yet!"

Holy shit! I smile, I blush, I start to sweat - his words affect me so deeply. I quickly look away because I suddenly feel nervous again.

"You seem as though you want to take the piss out of me most of the time - but your words tell me different." I say.

"Please don't look away from me Anastasia, you have such a beautiful innocent face, I enjoy watching you."

I peer back at him. We connect to one another, our energies connect, I can feel it! I want to kiss him so badly. When this emotion takes over me, I frown unknowingly.

"Why do you look sad?" He asks as he cups my chin.

"I'm fine Christian." I say.

I lean forward, pouting, desperate to feel his lips against mine. He bows his head and leans against my forehead sighing.

"What's wrong Christian?"

He breathes, for longer than normal - something bad is going to come from his lips, I know it.

"I cannot kiss you Anastasia." He confesses with a broken voice.

What the hell? My heart sinks into the deepest depths of me. I feel deflated and embarrassed. I try to move out from is arms but he insists.

"Don't bolt Anastasia. Please just bear with me, please." He begs.

"Why won't you kiss me?" I ask a little too childishly.

He looks me dead in the eye. I see something - pain, sadness, I don't know, but what I do know is, there is more to him than meets the eye.

"Anastasia, I..." He says but he doesn't finish.

His eyes are hooded, his lips are trembling. A sudden sense of desperation washes over me - I'm desperate to take his pain away from him, his pain that I know nothing of. I can feel something's wrong with him and I want to make it stop. You don't need to know everything about someone to care for them.

"It's okay Christian, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

He smiles warmly while looking down at me. He lifts his left hand, slowly. I watch his movement with curiosity while he eyes me.

"Can I touch you?" He asks.

I frown at his request to touch me; it's the oddest question anyone has ever asked me.

"Yes." I breathe.

He gently touches my cheek with his index finger. He holds it in place for only a few seconds before he starts trailing soft strokes down my face. He reaches my chin and sensually slides his finger across my face to my lower lip, leaving a trail of sensitivity where his touch lingers. He slowly slides his finger across my lower lip - back and forth, back and forth - his eyes follow his movement, they are ablaze with excitement - he looks as though he's intoxicated for once!

This feels so damn erotic; I feel my arousal coming for me, soaking my underwear as he teases me. A pinching sensation suddenly tugs inside me - I feel things I never knew I could - _down there!_ I suddenly become a limp mess, almost falling into him. He snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I'm just inches away from his seductive face.

"You are one sexually powerful woman. I need to fuck every part of you, Anastasia."

He continues touching my face, all the while I lose myself.

"I am going to finger fuck your mouth, now." He whispers. His warm breath caresses my cheek.

What does finger fuck mean?

My lips are closed, but he eventually forces himself inside my mouth. I let him indulge in his little desire without argument - I want this too, maybe even more than him.

"Oh fuck." He moans.

He rubs my tongue gently against the pad of his index finger. His touch tickles, it ignites me inside.

"Don't choke." He whispers.

Suddenly, he pushes his entire finger inside me. I close my lips tightly around him. He slowly pulls out of me. He then pushes back in and continues his salacious motions - in and out, in and out, in and out - he repeats this six times, I'm counting as I become... I don't know, indecent, dirty, X- rated! I'm so damn hot, but in an extremely, 'desperate to never let this feeling go', kinda way.

His eyes never move from my mouth, it's as though he's desperate to be his finger for only a few seconds - he's compelled by his own darkest desires. Oh God! Why do I have a sudden urge to rip his clothes off and force him to take me right now!

He gently re-emerges from me, completely removing his finger from my mouth. He closes his eyes looking heady drunk.

"Heaven." He mutters in a low throaty voice.

He places his finger inside his own mouth, indulging in my essence, groaning and moaning as he pushes deeper inside himself.

"Fuck, oh fuck." He chants.

Holy shit this is hot!

I watch him open-mouthed. I'm completely taken by him! How the hell can one man make finger fucking my mouth so desirable?

His face unexpectedly turns harsh. I notice he suddenly looks as though he's in pain. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter than before. His lips clamp around his finger rather than softly circling it. I act on impulse. I quickly take his hand. I pull it free from his mouth and kiss it. I trail chaste kisses up his wrist, then across his knuckles in desperation. I osculate each knuckle individually. I repeat my affectionate gesture six times - as he did - all over his hand. His skin almost scratches against my lips but the soreness is only causing me to become more aroused. He cups the back of my head affectionately. He pulls me into his chest, forcibly stopping me from making love to his hand.

"Oh Anastasia, what am I going to do with you?" He breathes.

I smile against his chest, desperate to tell him he can fuck me now if he likes! But I'm too chicken shit to tell him that.

"Can I take you home this time? Or would you rather just my driver?" He whispers.

I only now realize I'm panting, gasping like a lioness who has made her first kill. I take a few seconds to gather myself before I answer him.

"You can take me home if you need to."

"I do need to, Anastasia. I need to know you are safe."

Where has this emotional man been all this time? He seems, deep - controlling too - but there is something else in him, something he tries hard to hide. I could love him - the kind parts of him - I know I could. Every piece of anger I had has vanished - all I feel now is desperation.

He gently takes my hand, entwining our fingers with one another. He pulls me towards the door. I notice my papers scattered, "my papers Christian, I need them."

"Don't worry Princess, Jezebel will take care of them."

Princess? That's the third time now - I hope he isn't giving me a bloody pet name!

We walk out of his office, hand in hand. I almost have an urge to snatch my hand back from his - I cannot pass out in public due to Grey flu! This is when he effects me most, when he's touching me!

Jezebel clocks Christian and I as he ushers me down the lobby. She eyes us suspiciously - if looks could kill, we would definitely be dead!

Christian summons the lift, immediately grabbing my attention. I seem to notice every inch of what he does, it's almost sickening! We enter the lift. The air is chokingly thick with tension - I almost physically find it hard to breathe. I slowly lift my hand to my throat and generously rub my neck, hoping I can open my wind pipe before I suffocate. I steal glances over my shoulder at Christian. He's standing motionless, unaffected, keeping his self in check. I feel defeated while I watch him - why is it only I who feels this?

The lift pings open and he swiftly pulls me out with him. We walk through the hall - still hand in hand. To my surprise, every employee stops in their tracks and I swear I hear every single one of the women here gasp at us. I smile feeling elevated - why hasn't any of these beautiful women managed to land him?

We reach the revolving door. It's a bit of a task to walk through because he hasn't let go of my hand, but he pulls me in front of him - still gripping me - and we walk as one, awkwardly, but smoothly gliding through the door.

His Bentley is curb crawling, waiting for its master again in exactly the same place as it was last night.

"Does your driver sit here waiting for you all day, every day?" I ask joking.

"Yep, all day, every day." He replies.

He leans in on me, smelling my hair. "Hmmm, Jasmine." He whispers.

How can he tell what I shower in with one smell? My mouth is agape at his never ending skills.

He opens the car door completely taking my breath away. His suit jacket opens and I now notice that his three top shirt buttons are open, revealing his chest hair! What I would give to slowly snake my fingers through his chest hair! Oh, the joy and pleasure of such a task.

"Earth to Anastasia, get in." He orders.

I submit without even thinking. I slide in remembering the car's interior as though I had been in it just moments ago.

"You like leather?" I ask curious, noticing all his furniture is leather.

He smiles with a covert expression. I cannot help but think there is more to the leather than I assume to be just a taste of design.

"You have no idea Anastasia."

I sit stupefied by his answer, having no idea what he's referring to.

"You really are so innocent." He laughs. He leans over and affectionately tugs on my hair. "I have to make a few phone calls Anastasia, please don't think I'm being rude."

"Do as you wish Christian." I joke, pouting childishly at his polysemous reply.

We sit back in motion and we buckle up. I comfortably allow myself to indulge in his essence for the first time ever without being struck down with Grey flu. The driver pulls off of the curb and emerges into the great city. I watch as we drive through the busy streets, wondering if anyone else out there is as happy as I am?

I suddenly feel a heated sensation atop of my hand. I quickly look left to find Christian staring out of the window while he's calling someone. I gaze down at my hand to see he has rested his hand above mine. I smile at his small gesture, feeling satisfied. I sit back once more, allowing this delicious erotic rush to flow through me. I close my eyes, satisfied. If only others could feel this vibe that courses through my veins when he touches me - the world would be in turmoil no more. Every living person would seek this natural feeling of ecstasy and euphoria - it's nothing short of paradise.

Still to come

Chapter 11,12,13,14

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	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

WE PULL UP TO the curb outside of my apartment in no time at all; I really should get a car, it only takes five minutes to get to work. Christian has been on his phone cancelling meetings for this evening - and I might add, talking to people like they are shit on his shoe! He shuts off his phone and now I know this is it; no more Christian for this evening. I have to say, I feel... sort of sad. Why, I have no idea, but I seem to already miss him - what the hell is wrong with me? I turn and gaze at him, to bid him farewell. He takes my hand and gently strokes my knuckles.

"Anastasia, what are you doing this evening - do you have any plans?"

I stare down at his soft grip, I indulge in this rush of electricity that runs through me, through us. I will ask him if he feels it to, one day.

"Nothing, I have no plans." I say shy.

"Can I pick you up around eight? I want to take you somewhere."

Butterflies emerge throughout my tummy, tickling every inch of my skin from the inside - I smile at my own happiness.

"You are so pretty." He whispers.

I feel my face turn puce. I lower my head shyly.

"Yes, I would like that." I say soft.

He bows his head and stares at our hands.

"Please Anastasia, please don't expect too much from me. Give me time. My life at the moment is chaotic and as far as trying with someone - a woman - it's not something I have ever done. Women have always fallen at my feet, I have never had to work for it. I have also never felt, this." He tugs on my hand when he says, 'this'. "This is what's making me want to try - it's you."

Oh my! I cannot believe what he's saying! It's like winning the lottery - only this is better - it's pure. I know what he means by 'this', this strange emotional effect that takes hold. It has a mind control of its own, where you constantly think about that person, everything you do is compared to them - it's the start of a love story in my mind.

I smile affectionately at him, showing him that I understand.

"This is new to me to Christian. I don't expect anything from you. Just a little respect." I say with a wink.

"Well I think I can manage that." He jokes. He kisses my hand, his lips are so soft and full. What a romantic and gentlemen gesture.

"Why can't you kiss me Christian?" I blurt out. _Shit!_

He stares at me, blinking rapidly - I hear his breathing turn ragged also.

"Anastasia, I…" He trails off mentally. "I have so many Dark Layers and I'm fucked. I don't want to fill your beautiful innocent mind with all my bullshit."

His hand trembles a little, his eyes become hooded - I don't like making him feel this way, it hurts my chest, where my heart is.

"I'm not so innocent Christian." I force, trying to make him see that I have had a fucked up life too. Maybe if I shared everything about my mother and father with him, he wouldn't feel so secluded with his fucked-up-ness?

He shakes his head while he kisses my hand once more.

"Until tonight." He whispers as he gets out of the car. He comes around to my side and opens the door for me.

I *sigh*, gutted that I didn't make any leeway but I sort of understand, that's his block mentally, and if it helps him, who am I to judge him. I'm still a virgin for many reasons. I know I'm attractive and that I could easily get laid, but my mother and father went through some pretty dark demented situations which led me to believe that you can never truly know someone - so my virginity protects me, in my own way.

He opens the car door for me. The weather instantly hits me. It's refreshing and sunny. Cool Spring air caresses my face, alongside the beautiful aroma of Daffodils - _hmmm._ Oh how I need this after being locked in a car with Mr. Intoxicating Grey! He holds his hand out firmly, to help me out of the car. I refrain from taking his grip and gracefully stand flush against him.

"Well, it seems you are the one who shows no respect Miss Steele. Do you know not taking a man's hand in this kind of gesture is seen as rudeness?" He jokes.

"Well, we all get our kicks one way or another Mr. Grey." I say joking while I swan past him. He stands open-mouthed at my hardihood behaviour. It is he who now expresses a stupefied expression. _Touché!_ I stand on the steps leading into my apartment lobby.

"Until tonight, Mr. Grey." I smile fondly.

"I see that as a prohibition act Miss Steele - that is my line."

"You don't have dibs on the dictionary Christian." I smile triumphant.

He shakes his head, his mouth still agape.

"Until tonight Princess."

Yes, my balls are firmly in place. I no longer feel intimidated by him - well, when he's in a good mood I don't. I turn on my heel and practically runup to my apartment. I'm itching to Google Christian again. His words linger in my mind, 'do not just Google my name', and I also have his number which is placed in the top pocket of my blouse - I want to hug it with glee, but I refrain from the giddy act. _Lummox!_

Once I'm in my apartment, I generously spread across my sofa and fire up my HP laptop. While I wait for it to load up, I add Christian to my contact list on my IPhone. Once the internet is live, I sit staring at Google for around five minutes - _hmmm, _what to type in?I decide to type Christian Grey into Wikipedia - not much came up about him on Google but I know he's most likely to have a Wikipedia public profile, surely.

It's my mouth that is now agape - the search is shocking to say the least.

Christian Grey (Mr. Grey), born May 21 1982.

Christian Grey Senior, Christian's father. Previous owner of Darks Lawyers – currently working in politics.

Helen Grey, Christian's mother, deceased on 8th march 2000.

Castor Grey, Christian's twin brother. Owner of Illumination Media - also working alongside his father in politics.

Christian's employment –

Christian is a Masters Lawyer owning eighty percent shares in Darks Lawyers - the most highly recommended and pass rate Law Firm in the world with over twenty Law departments.

Christian was handed his family estate on his twenty-fifth birthday by his father, Christian Grey Senior.

Christian has one previous wife, Adriana Whitmore.

Christian is currently married to Jezebel Grey (Jezebel Grey is currently undergoing divorce proceedings against Christian Grey – divorce grounds unknown to public).

Christian's hobbies are - unknown.

Christian's mother's death - unknown.

Christian's first divorce grounds - unknown.

Christian's bar pass rate - unknown.

Christian being a father - unknown.

Christian's sexual orientation - unknown.

Christian's criminal convictions -

_one attempted criminal conviction from the United Kingdom Authorities - available to the public's knowledge._

Christian Grey and an unknown female (Jane Doe) were involved in dangerous sexual acts.

The Jane Doe suffered numerous cuts to her feet. The Jane Doe suffered with side effects of drowning. The Jane Doe suffered with starvation for six days.

The Jane Doe is alive and well - no charges were brought to Mr. Grey due to the sexual acts being consensual by both parties.

Jane Doe's and Christian Grey' statements are available to the public - click here. (FANFICTION READERS - this link will be loaded on the Kindle app or it will be the third to last page in the paperback book)

Personal profile.

We do not currently have a personal profile on Christian Grey.

Net Worth.

Christian is currently worth £666 Billion.

Christian inherited £21 Billion from his father, Christian Grey Senior.

I have read this three times already. I'm traumatized and dizzy, completely head fucked - he has almost been convicted of dangerous sexual acts! And his mother is dead! Holy shit! Tears start to prick my eyes. Wow, this is confusing - how do I feel about him? My heart aches for him at how hurt he must be because of his mother - no wonder he thinks he's fucked up. And the Jane Doe thing! Fuck me! I need to call Derek.

I grab my phone with jelly fingers and speed dial him.

"Hey Sweets, you okay?"

"Derek, are you busy?"

"No. Are you okay Anastasia?" He asks worried.

"I don't know. I need to read you something and then I want your professional opinion."

"Okay." He elongates.

I read him everything on Christian, he's quiet, so, so quiet - this is not like Derek.

"Are you there Derek?"

"Um, yes. I'm trying to... I need to just digest this Anastasia. Give me a moment."

I pant down the phone. I wonder if he will think it's fucked up too?

"Anastasia, his sexual tastes are not perfectly normal, but what is sexually normal these days? I think, maybe... I think that you shouldn't judge him by this. The Jane Doe has not pressed charges against him so that is a good thing, and him not releasing a statement is just very Grey of him."

"That doesn't really help my emotions, Derek." I say.

"Anastasia, you were warned off of him by myself and Hester and you chose to pursue him. The man has more money than half of the world. He's been divorced twice. His mother is dead. He's a bloody Lawyer. What would you expect from a man of this description?"

"Do you think I'm safe with him?"

"Yes, he wouldn't kill you Anastasia, he has too much to lose."

"Well that's comforting!" I scoff.

"Anastasia, what do you feel?"

His question catches me off guard.

"I feel more sad about his mother than anything. I know that people have strange ways to get kicks these days - but I naturally questioned his choice of sexual desires because the authorities were involved."

"Exactly. How do you think you would have reacted if he told you all this, coyly - in his own words?"

I think about his question for more than a few seconds.

"I would have probably been a little jealous because I'm inexperienced."

"There is your answer Sweets. Listen, my client is here. If you're not sure about anything, just stay away from him and call me, anytime - okay?"

"I will, thank you Derek - God I do love you."

"I love you too Sweets. Speak to you later."

We hang up and I allow my sadness to take over my horrified imagination. I push the laptop to the side and pull my knees up to my chest. I quietly sob for a while. I feel… dejected - no other words can possibly describe how I feel right now. So much has happened with my own mother, and I thank God that she's still here - I think my own personal mummy problems are what have caused me to feel so strongly about him losing his. He must be so broken inside - how the hell does he maintain this persona of control and emotionless appearance in public?

I turn the internet off. I cannot read anymore, I'm meant to be spending the night with Christian - the thought sends a strange vibe through my tummy. I need to try and gather myself, rid myself of this sadness that aches inside of me for him, and also the worry of what he has done with that woman - Jane Doe.

I put some relaxing music on. I put my headphones on and listen to the sweet melody of, Bill Withers - Aint No Sunshine When She's Gone. I cry for Christian - I cannot help it - and before I know it, I unexpectedly fall asleep.

I WAKE TO banging at my front door.

"Hold on." I shout while I try to wake myself up. Honestly, I sleep way too much.

I glance at my watch as I race to the door and I notice it's already eight p.m.

"Shit!" I curse.

I open the door to find Christian standing with a discouraging expression.

"Anastasia, have you been sleeping?"

"Why would you ask that?" I ask sweetly.

"It's just, your hair." He laughs pointing at me.

I shrug my shoulders and give him a weak smile.

"I dozed off without a thought, come in." I gesture as I open the door for him.

Wow, he looks delicious - and I look rank! This is the most casual I have ever seen him. He's wearing fitted dark blue jeans that hug his masculine legs so perfectly; camel leather shoes; a crisp white shirt that is unbuttoned - I can see almost all of his beautifully hairy chest. I think that's a delightful gesture on his behalf, thank you God!And to finish, a dark grey beret hat. His inky black hair literally melts around his head and upper neck, _hmmm._

"Sorry - we can do this another day if you like?" I ask worried as my mouth waters at the sight of him.

He flashes me a devilish smile, "I can wait - we have reservations at eight-thirty but I can call them now and change them to ten if you like?"

"Ten?" I almost shout, "why so late?"

"Well, how long do you take to get ready? I don't mind waiting for Barbie." He jokes as he strokes my golden locks, gently and with affection.

I whack his mocking hand away.

"If you have the audacity to categorize me with that stupid money making scheme doll again, then I suggest you leave now!"

He laughs, "okay, my card has been marked. Shall I serve myself?"

"Serve yourself what?"

He hunches his neck down to gaze at me.

"You would be the special on my menu, but I want this evening to last, so perhaps some wine, or a coffee for now? I don't mind either Anastasia."

Oh my! His words are profound, they are compelling - I don't mind being on your menu! For Missionary only though Sir!

"Um, I can make you coffee. Please get comfortable in the living area." I gesture for him to go through, desperately trying to cool my heated cheeks.

He stops in the door way and stands staring.

"It looks different in here from the other night."

"Maybe you wasn't looking at the furnishings." I joke.

"You know me to well already." He scoffs.

He walks a little further, then stops dead in the middle of my living area. He eyes my apartment.

"You like flowers?"

I have flowers everywhere, each in their own crystal vase on the counter tops and the mirrored sideboards. They are a treat for me and I adore the fresh country smell that lingers in the air of my apartment. They also remind me of my mother. She's an Old English style kinda woman; class, wit and charm literally ooze from her.

"More than you would know." I whisper. I slowly walk past him into the kitchen area.

"Hmmm, it is as I thought." He mutters to himself.

"What is?"

"You."

"What about me?"

He motions his hand around the living area.

"You are high maintenance."

"I am not!"

"It's a compliment Anastasia - are you Italian?"

"No, why?"

"No? Then why is your apartment decorated to the highest end of the Italian style?"

"I like it, that's all."

He nods his head in confirmation.

"It's a lovely place, exactly what I expected."

"And how can you presume to know someone's decoration tastes when you have only met them in person? You have never seen my place, or my Facebook - have you?"

I finish with, 'have you', because I have a sneaky feeling his stalker tendencies would definitely drive him to look me up on Facebook, and I have tons of photos of my apartment on there.

He flashes a confirming smile, but doesn't answer me.

"I can make coffee Anastasia. Go and get ready. Are you having a shower?" He asks doing another one-eighty on me.

"Don't do that." I snap.

"Do what?" His face looks irreverent - he knows what he does!

"That thing you do when you won't answer me - you even have this sexy half smile that you pair your expression with - you do it every time you avoid a question."

"How very observant of you Princess."

"Have you seen my Facebook?"

"Are you having a shower?"

"Have you seen my facebook?"

"Anastasia, if you argue with me, I am going to flip you over my knee, pull your underwear down to just below your derriere, and I will slap your arse until it's bright red - now, answer me. Are you having a shower?"

"You wouldn't dare!" I warn. My eyes are wide and my mouth is set in a hard line.

"Do you really think I wouldn't?" He challenges. His eyes are glazed. His mouth is slightly open - he looks nothing short of sexy.

My mouth is now agape; all colour has left - not only my face - my entire body. Is he for real? _You damn well know he is! Answer him!_

"Well?" He says with a secret smile dancing around his lips. He edges closer to me, like a lion ready to pounce.

"Yes, I'm having a shower." I smile sweetly hoping my angelic image will save me.

"Maybe I should wait in the car." He says as he starts erratically thrashing his hands through his hair.

"Why? I won't be long Christian."

"Then the wait won't be infuriate."

"Why do you want to wait in the car?"

"I don't know if I can control myself Anastasia; just the thought of knowing you are wet and naked, through there," he points to the other hall in my apartment, "it makes me twitch in all the right places." He finishes as he leans his elbow on the kitchen counter top - he looks as though he's trying my breathing technique. Ha, it doesn't work - trust me I know!

"Them breathing techniques only work if you can master them, Christian." I joke - mimicking his own words.

"I have mastered them. Go have a shower." He orders pointing towards the hall.

"I will be sure to lock the bathroom door, don't worry." I reply as I stroll off swaying just to tease him, "cups are in the cupboard next to the sink."

"I thought you were going to make me coffee?" He asks but I ignore him for fun.

As soon as I reach my en-suite, I rush - rush to the point of being worried that I haven't made an effort_. _The shower is too hot, the air in the bathroom is too cold, and my makeup is damp because I have left it open. Feeling extremely frustrated, I slow down, but now I'm worried we will be late for our reservation? Ugh! _Jeez girl, nothing is ever right for you. You are either over thinking or under thinking, rushing or taking the piss out of time - just let it be, God damn it!_

I take a load off and sit on the toilet seat to gather my erratic self while I dry. I also listen to my conscience for once, knowing she's right - I want to look pretty, not rushed. I also come to a sudden realisation that I have not once thought about Christian's sexual... tastes, nor his mother. How can he actually give me amnesia when he's in my presence?

I screw my hair up in my hands frustrated, "stop this Anastasia!" I moan.

Once I'm calm enough, I lose the towel and get dressed. He looks pretty casual so I don't want to overdo it. I go for royal blue skinny jeans, a white Valentino sweater, and flat red dolly shoes with a little red scarf. I tie my hair back in a tight ponytail with my featherlike fringe hanging down one side of my face. I finish my light makeup, paring my skin with peachy lipstick.

"There, perfect." I pout in the mirror.

I head out to Christian feeling conflicted - maybe once I can feel his presence all this erratic bullshit will vanish!

As soon as I walk out of the hall, I have a vision that will last me a lifetime, even if I never get to touch this man. He's seated in my usual spot on the sofa, drinking coffee from_ my_ personal mug, and reading my kindle, _perfection!_ I stand and watch him for a few seconds, listening intently to him slowly slurping his drink. I'm desperate to taste that cup after him! I hope he doesn't wash it up, _weirdo!_

"Ahhh, you are ready, and what a sight you are Anastasia. Stunning is the only way I can describe you Princess."

"Well you look pretty dapper and casual, so I thought I'd try to match you in that department."

"This will be the only department you could ever match me in Anastasia." He jokes.

He puts his arm over my shoulder - such an Alpha gesture. I smile fondly and blush in sync.

"Ready?"

"One second, I just need to grab my purse."

"Why?"

"So I can split the bill with you."

"I don't fucking think so - move." He urges - not moving his arm from my shoulders as we walk out of the front door. I laugh knowing I have given in way to easily - this will only set the pace for our… well whatever we have.

The lift is a no go for me, I cannot be near him in any enclosed space. - the last thing I need tonight is suffocation!

"The stairs Christian, not the lift."

"Why?" He asks as he squeezes my shoulder with his hand to stop me from walking further.

I bow my head laughing.

"Let's just use the stairs and try to make it through the car ride before we start bickering."

"I like our banter Anastasia, it will soon lead to sex and it will be explosive - I promise you that."

_Yep, amnesia!_ I blush scarlet while I become irrevocably embarrassed! How will I ever have sex talk with him?

We finally make it outside and I gasp for air, realizing - enclosed space or open space, he still infects me with Grey flu! Will I ever become immune to him? I hope so - _no you don't!_

"Anastasia."

"Yes?"

"The car." He gestures as he stands holding the door open for me.

I horridly stumble inside, bashing my knee on the door and almost hitting my head on the door frame. I realize I was day dreaming right in front of him, damn it! I sit quietly embarrassed by my less than graceful entrance into the car.

"Are you okay Anastasia?"

"Yes." I say shyly.

"Don't worry about your stumble, I like it when you have cute silly moments. They are so rare and they remind me that you are only human - not this addictive angel I have carved into my mind." He says.

He gently pinches my chin with affection. I have a huge goofy smile plastered on my face, and I try hard to remove it but it's not shifting! His compliments are coming more frequently. They make me feel less intimidated and more comfortable with him - I adore his vocabulary when my name slips off of his tongue.

Christian unexpectedly takes my hand and entwines our fingers together. He stares out of the car window expressionless. Shit - what's wrong with him? I hope fluffy Christian hasn't vanished into thin air, I don't think I can handle another one of his personalities today. I stare at him, desperately trying to conjure up an idea to bring him back to me, but I come up with nothing!

What's on his mind?

Still to come

Chapter 12,13- (14 kindle/paperback only)

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	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

WE ARRIVE AT The Dorchester restaurant in Park Lane, London. I know this place has three Michelin stars and the food is apparently divine. Christian has been silent the entire ride here and now I'm starting to wonder whether dinner is such a good idea.

He ushers me inside, pronto, still silent - I'm just thankful that his touch speaks volumes, otherwise I would be completely deflated!

Wow - this place is just stunning. The tranquil colours of pale oranges and muted creams give it such a relaxing feeling. The tables are a deep rosy brown, finished with a modern twist of perfectly sharp edges. They are not too small either, they are sizeable for all your side dishes - unlike most restaurants these days!

We get seated at our table and a very smartly dressed waiter comes over in no time at all.

"Wine?" Christian asks clipped.

"Um, yes please. Are you okay Christian ?"

"What wine would you like, Anastasia?"

"Condrieu ´Côteau de Vernon` domaine Georges Vernay." I say joking, knowing it costs two-hundred and eighty pounds here. He doesn't bat an eye lid; _Bastard_! And he has ignored my concern, masking it with his controlled exterior. Maybe I should possess numerous personalities and make it hard for him to keep up.

After another five minutes in painful silence, the waiter returns and offers us our drinks via a towel wrapped wine bottle. I take a huge gulp and finish the glass while the waiter is still here. He smiles affectionately at me - probably noticing my agitated expression. He offers to top my glass further.

"Thank you Sir." I gesture.

"I need the bathroom Hephaestus, I won't be a minute." I joke with Christian .

He smiles at me with dark piercing eyes, knowing my joke I presume. I storm off to the bathroom reeling, clicking my heels in annoyance. God he's pissing me off! It's like constantly breaking down walls, and once you have finally finished, you turn to find someone else building another!

I attend to my needs and once I have finished, I stare wide-eyed in the mirror. I look different, _flush_, and my eyes are an electric blue. I think I like this look, it reminds me of lust - I giggle to myself shaking my head with a huge *sigh*.

"Here comes round ten!" I mutter to myself while pinching my already puce cheeks.

While walking back to my table, a man stops me in my tracks.

"Excuse me Miss, but I must compliment you on your astoundingly beautiful eyes."

I stop to admire him and his matching blue eyes. He smells lush, his scent lingers in the air around us - vanilla and roses, _hmmm_. His lips are so full and his skin is perfectly golden - almost like Christian 's. If I wasn't here with Christian , I might have asked him to join me.

I blush scarlet, "thank you Sir. That's very kind of you."

"Do you have company?"

"Yes she does!" Christian interrupts us with his alpha arm snaking its way around my waist.

I smile at the man while shrugging my shoulders.

"You are a very lucky man." The guy gestures with a small bow of his head.

"That I am." Christian replies while looking down at me - I can feel his eyes burning into me with a sense of declaration.

He pulls me back to our table and starts bitching.

"You leave for five minutes and already have another offer."

"He was not a better offer Christian ."

"I did not use the word 'better' Anastasia. I know he's not a better man than I am."

"Well no one can accuse you of being reticent."

He laughs, "is something bothering you Princess?"

He places his elbow atop of the table and starts to roll his thumb across his lower lip - _stop that!_

Right, stay focused. Yes his eyes are so damn blue. Yes his smile is off putting because it holds such desirable beauty, yes his curious gaze is burning into me, but I need to mental slap him, or his arse - his arse would be better and much, much more fun!

"Yes, as a matter of a fact, something is bothering me. I'm annoyed with your one-eighty mood swings. If you are no longer in the mood for dinner then just say. Don't shut down into silence. I would accept your problematic personality to your silenced one, jeez."

He covers his mouth with his hand and sits back laughing to himself. His eyes are alight with amusement. His smile is wide. He looks carefree for once.

"This is not funny Christian !" I moan. Although he looks sweet for the first time ever, this is no excuse to allow him to mock me!

"No, I know. I'm sorry." He continues laughing.

"Well I'm glad I amuse you! At least I'm good for something."

He leans forward, compelling me with his delectable gaze. "I am pretty sure you are good for many things Anastasia - I intend to find out each and every one of your skills so I can utilize them in the proper form."

His words jumble around in my brain, to many meanings and open questions in such a small sentence. _Missionary, only missionary!_ My conscious screams.

I gulp down the rest of my wine again, "can I have some more please?"

"Of course." He waves for the waiter, who I am pretty sure is only waiting on us.

The waiter has a smile dancing around his lips. I know he has heard us bickering with one another. He fills my glass again and leaves fast, like the Butler off of Mr. Deeds - I almost giggle.

"Have you ever been on the London Eye, Princess?"

"No, why?"

"Good."

"Why?"

"Are you ready to eat?" He ignores my question.

Ugh! I would love to slap that pretty face of his! _No you wouldn't._

I sit back in my chair, once again defeated and I close my eyes.

"I will have a fillet steak – medium - with a cheese sauce, please Christian ."

"Very good. I like a girl with an appetite."

"Huh." I huff.

"Oh come on Princess, cheer up and I will too."

Cheer up? Oh my God - I am an idiot! Today's date registers in my mind. It's the 9th of March - the anniversary of his mother's death was only yesterday - _double crap!_ Here I am childishly pouting over his mood when he has been suffering with his grief in silence.

"Christian , I'm sorry. Today's date has only just registered."

He looks at me like, 'what the hell'?

"Your mother." I whisper.

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. I feel the air change between us - the electricity has now turned to ice. _Great!_ I reach out and touch his hand to reassure him that I'm here for him - I also close my eyes to savour this moment before he ruins it. He pulls his hand away and motions for the waiter. He quickly orders our food and even the waiter knows better than to hang around here!

Over an hour has gone by and not a single practical word has passed our lips - the only words spoken by Christian are, 'how is your food - do you like the sauce - more wine?' I swear he is either slowly turning into a food critique with his useless questions, or he's trying to get me pissed with the increased amounts of wine he keeps ordering. Option two is more than desired on my behalf.

I cannot take the silence anymore, so I take a leap in hope that I don't land on my head.

"Are you okay - what's the problem Christian ?"

He clears his throat, "I am fine, Anastasia."

"Do you want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"How you feel; tell me, please. Say anything; cry, laugh, scream, chant! Anything!"

"Tears are a symbol of the souls inability to restrain its emotions. I will not be shedding tears anytime soon."

Is that all he heard? I stare wide-eyed, mentally tutting to myself.

I huff in annoyance, "your mother then? Talk about something Christian , otherwise I'm leaving."

"My mother? She was a fine woman; clever, adoring and utterly beautiful; a lot like you Anastasia."

"She sounds impeccable Christian , you must miss her dearly?"

"Every day." He whispers looking down at his food.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did she pass?"

"You don't want to know my fucked-up-ness Princess. Just leave it at that."

I feel defeated and annoyed - why did he ask me out to dinner if he's going to sit here like a God without a purpose? I fiddle with my food, and as I reach for some bread to nervously pick at, I knock my wine over.

"Crap, I'm sorry." I jump out of my seat and try to clear up the wine.

"Anastasia, leave it Princess. The waiter can clean it up."

"No, no, I want to do it."

The waiter comes over and insists, "please Miss, let me clean this up for you. Have you both finished eating?"

"Um, yes Sir." I say.

"Yes we have." Christian says stern.

"I will move you to a different table. Please give me five minutes."

"No it's okay, we will go to the bar." Christian insists.

I look around for my bag to busy myself but quickly remember I left it at home - damn Christian !

He unexpectedly snakes his arm around my waist. The physical contact is welcomed, deliciously welcomed.

"Are you okay, Anastasia?" He whispers into my ear from besides me.

"Yes, are you?"

"I am. Please don't worry about me, I have taken care of myself for many years Princess."

"Emotionally?"

"What do you mean, 'emotionally.'" He asks as he looks down at me with a sketchy expression.

"Have you taken care of yourself emotionally Christian ? We can all work and stay busy but have you dealt with your emotions, grieved properly?"

He stops us dead in the middle of the restaurant - gripping my arm tighter than necessary.

"Christian , that hurts!" I say weak, clutching at his wrist.

He immediately drops his hand from me, looking hurt by his unknowingly tight grip.

"This is not a topic I wish to discuss Anastasia. Especially not here." He motions his hand around the restaurant at how busy it is.

Jeez he looks mad! I gaze around, and bizarrely, I didn't even notice the hustle and bustle of London - even upon entering the restaurant.

"Sorry." I say.

He nods in approval and carry's on walking but this time, he doesn't lead me with his hand on my waist. I sink into the depths of my body, slowly shutting down emotionally. Trust me to bring up emotions to a cold calculated man, _nincompoop!_ I eventually follow after him and order another glass of wine. They come often, too often, and before I know it, I'm way too tipsy. My head feels fuzzy and light - I like this feeling though, especially now - but I know I need to take it easy before I fall asleep. We don't resume our normal pattern of banter, he has small talk with the bar tender regarding the climate change and the economical system while I entertain myself mentally; I mean really, my mind is so much fun!

While desperately trying to think of a way to bring Christian back to me, a beautiful statuesque blonde walks over to him and delicately places her hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. She's so gorgeous - her hair is so long and fit for a mermaid with her long golden wavy locks. Her eyes are of the deepest brown, almost black - and they look alluring, she looks alluring, every damn inch of her. Her body is perfectly curvy - she's advertising it with a skin tight red spaghetti strap dress. I almost feel jealous with my casual appearance.

"Christian , Darling. How are you?" She asks as she places a soft chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Hello, Star, what a pleasant surprise. I'm good - how are you?" Christian returns her sweet tender kiss.

_Yes I'll just stand here and watch you both lust after one another._

"Things are great, extremely great - father just landed the sovereignty account, do you remember which one?"

"I do, I dealt with all the paperwork." He smiles warmly at her.

"I know, father always tells me of your extra talents - we are all in awe of you Christian ."

"Thank you Star."

"So what are you doing here - are you alone? You should join us, father would love to see you."

"I am actually with a friend, but I will quickly pop over and say hello."

"Where is your friend?"

"Here." He motions his hand towards me. "I won't be a minute Princess." He says to me as he leaves us alone.

I feel like I just watched them from the other side of the room, but nooo, I am only two feet away, witnessing the man I desire ogle over a unbelievably beautiful woman! Dam Christian !

"I see - and you are?" Star addresses me shrewdly.

"Anastasia, it's nice to meet you."

"Hmmm, how long have you both been, 'friends'?" She elongates friends.

"I actually work for him."

"I see." She says. She looks at me with a disgusting expression, eyeing me from head to toe.

"You see a lot of things, don't you Star?"

"Excuse me?" She snaps.

"There is no need to look at me like I am a piece of shit." I say, standing firm in front of her.

She sort of laughs, but in a sarcastic manner.

"Another adolescent - he will get bored of you to, and he will come seeking a real woman. Or maybe you will leave him, once you discover his... meticulous tastes."

"And what is that suppose to mean?" I snap with vivid memories of Jane Doe's statement running unhealthily through my mind.

Star doesn't continue because Christian 's back. He stares between the two of us with a questionable expression.

"Is everything okay?" He asks.

I look him dead in the eye, "what does she mean, 'your meticulous tastes'?"

He shoots her a daring glare, "what have you said?"

"Nothing Christian ." She says sweet.

"Have you forgotten your NDA?"

Holy shit! She has worked for him too! But how would she know his 'meticulous tastes'? - whatever that means.

"Christian , I have not said anything unorthodox. Ask her." She eyes me, narrowing her perfectly black glare in my direction.

He turns to face me, his face is as hard as stone.

"What did she say?"

I stare at her now worried expression - wow, what's eating her? _Christian !_

"Nothing." I say.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"She was just rude to me Christian ."

He quickly turns back to face her and although I cannot see his face, I see hers - and I know he looks scary.

"Apologise to her, now!" He warns.

"I am sorry, Anastasia." She says clipped.

"It's okay - Christian , just leave it." I say. I grab his arm, trying to turn him to face me. God he has got serious anger issues.

"What makes you think you can be rude to her?" He asks.

"I... I." Is all she manages.

I feel the atmosphere, stronger than any other. Christian 's taking this too far, I need to do something - fast!

"Christian , stop this now, otherwise I'm leaving!" I warn.

"I think you had better leave." He tells Star.

He releases her with a slight push to her left arm. She scurries off without another word, and although I love his protective side, sometimes it is just not necessary. The atmosphere is filled with rage - oozing from Christian of course - and the evening hasn't exactly ran smoothly. It's almost eleven so I decide to end this night before it gets any dryer.

"Christian , it's getting late. I think we should call it a night, I have work tomorrow."

He turns to face me. His hands are now safely in his pockets. His face is still impassive but his mouth is closed, so we are now in a Grey safe zone - I think.

"You can have tomorrow off." He says motionless.

Shit, has he really had enough of me? Maybe he's sick of constantly defending me.

"Do you want me to quit my job?" I ask shy.

"What?" He almost shouts looking taxed mentally, "why would I want you to leave your job? I am letting you have the day off because I want to take you somewhere and I know we will be out late."

"Oh, I thought you were trying to get rid of me."

"And why would you think that?"

"I don't know. The night has gone from bad to worse - especially after your friend - well, you don't have to keep defending me, I can take care of myself."

He hunches down to look at me. He takes one of my hands in his - I was unknowingly fiddling with a lose strand of hair.

"You really must not doubt yourself Anastasia. You are an amazing woman and I love your company. And as for defending you, that is a man's job - believe me, if she were a man and spoke to you like that, she would be leaving here tonight with matching black eyes."

I laugh at his Alpha ego.

"Your masculinity is duly noted." I joke.

"That is more than appreciated Princess." He smiles solicitous while releasing my hand - I instantly feel empty. I stare down at my hand, blinking rapidly. How he lingers on my skin is nothing short of perfection.

"Honestly though Christian , if today's hard for you, we can do this another night."

"No, I want to spend the night with you. Today is just difficult, and I have never discussed my feelings about my mother's death with anyone."

Oh, that is the most honest, most sweetest thing he has ever said - he must stop this, I am falling deep!

"Okay - I'm here if you decide you do want to talk about her, or your emotions, Christian ."

"I know, thank you Princess." He says sweetly. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He winks.

My tummy doubles over in excitement. I'm desperate to know where he's taking me, and I'm desperate to keep him here with me mentally - I don't want him to go to a dark place again.

I finish my drink knowing I have reached a hard limit regarding alcohol - no more for me tonight - and I follow after him, admiring him while he gracefully glides through the restaurant. I now feel really good - I love how he has a natural instinct to protect me - maybe that's why I like him so much, maybe that's why I have always liked him. Any girl would fall in love with a hero, right?

I quickly try to think of light conversation that will lead to me knowing more about him.

"What do you do for your hobbies?"

His hobbies didn't come up on Wikipedia, and I need to know what he enjoys - other than his sexual... tastes.

He looks at me with a dirty expression.

"Renaissance art; I like to paint and also enjoy exhibitions."

He likes art - _wow. _I stare wide-eyed.That was unexpected!How many times is he going to shock me?

"And you?" He asks.

"Um, I like art, I cannot paint though."

"Maybe you will let me paint you one day?"

I smile embarrassed, wondering if he's going to want to paint a nudie?

He opens the car door for me and I slide in feeling exhilarated.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going?" I ask as he slides in besides me.

"No." He says clipped, staring at me with a daring expression.

Still to come

Chapter 13- (14 kindle/paperback only)

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	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

WE PULL UP TO the London Eye and it now registers - this is where he's taking me. I wonder if it usually stays open this late, or if he paid the security? Either way, I know that almost everything is within his grasp.

"Are you sure you have never been on the London Eye?" He asks worried. His tone is shaky. His eyes are wide.

"I think I would know if I have been on the biggest wheel in London, Christian." I joke.

He smiles affectionately and relaxes. He tugs on my arm, urging me to get out of the car with him.

"Hopefully you will forever remember tonight." He says.

"Of course I will remember tonight, why do you say that?"

He doesn't answer me, he smiles while ushering me to one of the wheels capsules. The London Eye is huge - it looks like a sky scraping white fairs wheel with architectural boxes attached; it really is breathtaking. The River Thames runs past us. I watch as all the lights glisten onto the water from the buildings. The water is dark but divine, covered in blue to yellow flickers. The city looks absolutely stunning from here.

He opens one of the capsules' doors for me.

"In you go Princess." He says, smiling giddy.

I step in anxious as I watch his secret expression. He shuts the door behind us and turns gazing at me. His eyes are deep and devouring, amused too.

"What's so funny?" I say curious.

"Look." He motions his hand over the floor.

Holy shit! _The Bastard!_ I laugh. There are ten bubblegum pink cushions scattered around the edge of the capsule - Barbie is perfectly written in shiny pink crystals, on every single cushion. I shake my head at his challenging audacity!

"This is amazing Christian." I shoot him a huge smile, trying my very best not to acknowledge his silly gesture.

"Do you like the cushions?" He jokes.

I give up - his playful mood is just too addictive!

"Oh yes, can I take one home?"

"You can have them all Princess."

I laugh as he man handles a bottle of champagne - popping it open with such control. He sucks on the frothy overflowing liquid while looking down at me. He smiles once he's finished, revealing the most dirty expression that he has ever homed yet! Oh what I would give to be that damn bottle, to taste his essence - _hmmm._

"Where did that come from?"

"I am a sorcerer, didn't you know? I can do many things Princess - making champagne appear is child's play for me." He jokes.

"Very funny!"

He pours us both a glass and we clink while we make a toast.

"To a happy and healthy future."

"Yes Christian, to a happy and healthy future."

I like this thought and I hope it will include him.

The wheel starts to move and I gasp for air at my sudden panic.

"Ah!" I breathe.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm just a little scared of heights."

"Why didn't you say." He asks worried, edging closer to me with something sparkling in his eyes - I think he looks anxious!

"Because I wanted to do this for you."

He stares at me for more than a few seconds, questionably. His face turns harsh. His lips press into a hard line. He suddenly starts to open up.

"My mother wanted to take me on this wheel. We had tickets for the day it opened to ride at midnight."

I stare like a fish with an open mouth.

"Oh, Christian. I had no idea."

"How could you? I have made sure my entire life is off limits to the public. I only wanted you to Google me so you could see what a fucked-up-mess I am Anastasia. I have so many Layers... Dark, Dark Layers and I didn't want to drag you into my tormented life without some insight."

_Well that's appreciated!_

He turns to face the window - I don't think he can bare to look at me while he unleashes his darkest emotions.

"How could I look into your life when you have kept anything relevant out of the media?"

"You can still see that I have been married twice; divorced once; currently undergoing another divorce; my mother's death. And I know you saw what happened with Jane Doe."

He does have a point. I wonder if I should ask him about Jane Doe - is it relevant? _Hmmm?_ I opt to find out what happened with his mother.

"Christian, how did your mother pass?"

He gives me a quick glance while rapidly licking his lips. I entwine my fingers around my glass, nervous that I have again gone too far.

His words come without a filter button.

"She shot herself in the head exactly twelve years ago yesterday. She came to me thirty minutes before she killed herself and told me, 'Christian, my precious baby boy. You are and always have been the most important thing in my life. I love you in this life and the next.' She then kissed me on the lips - for twenty seconds. That's the last time I ever saw her."

"Oh my." Is all I manage as tears prick my eyes - I need to cry for him. This poor, poor man has suffered with all this alone - out of choice but the facts still remain - he has suffered the ultimate pain. I cannot imagine how life would be without my mother living in this world - imagine your mother confessing her undying love for you, to ultimately take it away by immediately killing herself, how would anyone come back from that? I know he doesn't want any sympathy, but I take it upon myself. I walk over to him as we reach the peak of the ride. I wrap my arms around him, completely covering his arms with mine, and I just lean my head on his hard chest. His breathing hitches as I lay my face flat against him, but he doesn't attempt to move or tell me to stop.

"London looks stunning from up here."

He sighs, "that it does, Princess."

"Thank you for tonight Christian, it has been magical."

He slides his arms from beneath mine. I think this is a hint for me to move, but as I aim to stand back, he takes my glass and places it on the little corner table with cup holes. He sets his glass down also. He pulls me close again, - hugging me - and we both stand watching London twinkle beneath us. He rests his cheek against my forehead, he feels strangely comfortable.

"Christian, I have to ask you this. Why do you care for me so much? I mean, we hardly know one another."

"You will find out why I care for you - one day. Just know there is a reason - I am not some crazy possessive stalker for no good reason."

I laugh at his self evaluation - oh how right you are on the personal stalker observation!

The capsule stops, immediately brining my anxiety down to some kind of normal.

"But you haven't known me that long."

"It does not matter how long we have known one another. What matters is love, passion, life and living. All these things are what matter, regardless of how long it took to get them. Time is just another journey we will take together."

His words burn through me, 'love, passion'!How can someone who perceives to be so cold and controlling to the world and everyone in it, ultimately be so tender on the inside?

He opens the door with grace and ushers me out while we are still arm in arm.

"Christian, is that why you don't kiss people? Because your mother was the last person to kiss you on the lips."

"I don't want to discuss that Anastasia." He says fierce.

I immediately bring him to a halt. I grab his arm, pulling harder than necessary. He turns to face me, gazing impassively.

"You have told me half of the story, so you might as well finish." I urge a little to brave. If I knew what was coming for me, I would have left it well alone.

"Half of the story, that is nothing. You have no idea what I do, what I am involved in, who I am involved with, or how I get my kicks, Anastasia."

"Tell me, I want to understand." I plea.

He shakes his head, "no. You are too special to me. I don't want to tarnish you with my fucked-up-ness Princess."

I am not bloody letting this go!

"I'm stronger than I look. Please Christian, I want to know everything about you - the good, the bad and the ugly."

He stands stone still. His eyes are strangely delicate. He rubs his chin contemplating something.

"If I show you, you are never allowed to leave me; do you promise you will do everything it takes to stay?"

I think about his answer before I reply. I don't want to seem tactless and idiotic.

"What do you want to show me? I want you to tell me - speak to me Christian."

"The only way is to show you Anastasia. Do you promise you won't leave?"

"Yes, I promise." I say baffled - how can he show me his emotions?

"Because I have grown quite attached to you Anastasia."

"I said I promise and I mean it."

"Very well, on your head be it." He warns, and now I think I have taken my curiosity too far.

We walk back to the car.

"Get in the passenger seat." He orders.

I get in and the driver stares at me stupefied. Christian opens the driver's door and mutters some code talk.

Delta India Sierra November Echo Yankee, Lima Alpha November Delta, Oscar Foxtrot, Sierra Echo X-Ray.

The driver gets out of the car without a single word and Christian jumps into the driver's seat. He definitely wears this car as appose to it wearing him. Fuck he look good in anything - I bet companies would pay him an absolute fortune to be the face of their business!

"Buckle up Princess."

"What was that?" I ask curious, trying my very best not to gawk at him.

"What was what?"

"That code talk."

He flashes me a devilish grin but doesn't answer me. We slowly drive out of the darkness of London, and into the darker countryside. I shake my head and quickly give up on trying to press for an answer - I know better.

"So, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise Princess."

I like his surprises. The London Eye was amazing and really brought us together - which I am eternally grateful for. I try a different approach to things; he will not tell me about his code talk or where we are going, so maybe I should keep things general - or so he will think.

"Are you not over the limit? You've had quite a few drinks."

"I am fine Anastasia."

"What if the police stop you?"

"They won't."

"How can you be sure?"

He doesn't answer me, he doesn't even spare me with a quick glance - I find it frustrating. Ugh!

"What is your favourite colour?"

"Losing tactic?" He jokes, quickly flashing me a smile from the side.

"Never," I over work my tone to exude power, "colours can tell you a lot about people. I learnt that you are a cold exterior of a man with a fluffy inside, just by observing your staff and forming a relationship with you Christian."

"Very good, but maybe there's something I did not want you to see." He challenges as he looks my way.

I know what will get him, I'll use his very own words.

"I saw you. Our very own human wolf among the sheep."

His mouth drops open to speak but words fail him. I smile triumphant.

"So you are a rebel then?" He asks and it confuses me deeply.

"What's a rebel?"

"The ones who see things and choose not to play by the rules. Like you knowing Darks Lawyers had a dress code but you chose to ignore it."

"I thought this was a free country with Laws - not rules?"

"Free to walk along the streets safely, that's all. The Laws are the rules - people just choose to see it as we tell them."

"Ahhh, I see. So the government are even trying to take our safety away from us, insuring we have to rely on them on a daily basis. I'm guessing this is where robots will come into power, no?" I joke, shaking my head.

"Maybe." He challenges and now I'm left open-mouthed with no words to defend myself. I was expecting him to disagree with my opinion but I'm again shocked by him.

"We are here Princess."

I never even noticed the journey while I was busy staring at him. He really is too addictive - especially on the eye.

We pull into a stone driveway. We are met by a huge white mansion; the White House springs to mind with its vast white columns and the huge double front doors. The garden is immaculate, and as I analyse it, I'm dumbfounded to see all the Greek Goddesses standing in order to greet us, cut from bushes and they stand perfect; strong even. Why does he seem to collect Gods and Goddesses? What could he possibly want with mythology?

"Is this your house?"

"You know you ask too many questions." He jokes.

"Sorry, I'm not your submissive; I can speak when I like and ask my own questions."

His eyebrows shoot up in utter shock, "the irony of your words are - well, you will see."

I sit back into my chair thinking over our last conversation, and while I'm in my daydream, Christian exits the car. He comes around to my side and ushers me out.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

He takes my hand and walks me to the front doors. The stone driveway is harsh against my dolly shoes - I know they will be ruined tomorrow, perhaps I'll bill him! The Bastard!

He knocks on the door, quietly. A small hatch hidden in one of the doors panels instantly falls open. A hand emerges from the hatch as Christian pulls something free from his pocket. He places the object in the hand - I think it's a ring. Christian then places his hand in the hatch and we wait for thirty seconds - I count every single second as they pass.

"What are you doing?"

"No more questions Princess - stay by my side and do not interact with anyone. Do you understand?"

My mouth instantly dries and I become stressed.

"Maybe this is not such a good idea Christian?"

"You will be fine, you are with me." He says in a soft reassuring voice.

The doors open and creek under the pressure of their own weight. My palms sweat. I try to rub them down my jeans but every time I do, the moisture just doubles back and pools in my hands. Once the doors are open fully, I'm stunned, speechless and overwrought. Will I live to regret this? _Probably!_

We are met by a vast hall. Stunning is the only way to describe it - shiny black and white tiled floors stretch throughout. There are two human size wax men standing in the centre of the hall shaking hands. You cannot see their faces because they are wearing full length capes with hoods covering their appearances. The capes look suede soft and are of the deepest purple. The stairs are magnificent - silver marble dresses every single step. They stretch the entire length of the hall, commanding your eyes attention immediately. Whoever owns this place must be absolutely loaded!

"Christian…" I start to say but he silences me with a hand signal. I cross my arms in aggravation.

While pouting so childishly, I notice six porcelain white women - who are also made from wax - standing upon columns flush against the walls. They are beautiful and enchanting - reminding me of Aphrodite emerging from a bath of milk. I walk over to one of them and touch her dress. I instantly feel panic course through my veins as I realize they are not made from wax, they are real women! Holy shit! The woman standing on the column quickly grabs my hand. I jump back in a frenzy, pulling her with me.

"Ahhh, let go of me." I scream.

I don't even register the initial impact of the hard floor smashing against my back.

"You shouldn't be here, leave now - while you can." She quickly whispers into my ear before she's dragged off of me.

Christian rushes to me. He gently lifts me off of the floor, brushing my clothes down with affection.

"Stay close to me and do not walk off Alpha." He addresses me annoyed. His eyes are hooded. His eyebrows are creased. I look at him in confusion but agree by nodding. Why the hell is he calling me Alpha?

"Back to your pedestal girl!" He orders the woman.

So much is happening that I feel a headache coming for me! A man in a deep burgundy cape emerges from another room. He greets Christian with a strange handshake. They don't perform a normal handshake. They grip one another with their fingers - their palms don't touch. Their thumbs stay pointed out - Christian's is pointing towards the sky and the man's' is pointing towards the earth. _How bizarre?_

"Echo, how nice to see you brother."

I think I know what this is but I'm too scared to even imagine the words. _Is this a fucking Freemason secret house?_

"I will see you another time November. I have business to attend too." Christian says simple.

"Of course." The man replies to Christian but stares at me, smiling with a wicked grin. I don't return his gesture, he creeps me out - big time!

The creepy man leaves and Christian takes me by my arm, holding me in a firm grip. He leads me down the hall to the door at the very end. It's white and expensive with strange carvings of angels on every corner. We stop while he pulls a set of keys free from his pocket - he still has me in a tight grip. He unlocks the door and as soon as it's open, I wish I had just kept my mouth shut and accepted what crumbs he gave me.

For some reason, I don't feel like I'm the first woman Christian has brought here. I feel like I'm imposing.

The room is small. The only colour I mentally register is a deep purple. It leads onto two further rooms but I don't care about the other rooms - my curiosity has now vanished and turned into a plague like feeling. Above the doors are ghost white masks with moustaches. Either side of the masks are real knives, pointing inwards. They have mother of pearl handles and I think they are fish knives, that's what they look like - no, that can't be right, can it? The walls look like they are dressed in cotton like wallpaper; the colour is the deepest purple you have ever seen. To my left is the only wall without a door. It's dressed in perplexing instruments and a curious picture.

There is a naked woman with translucent skin painted onto a wooden bracket that is attached to the wall. The wooden bracket has tons of inscriptions, I think the words are from the bible, but I cannot be sure. You cannot make out the woman's face, she's bowing her head and her blonde hair is hiding her features. She's standing in a star position. She has a black gag with a ball in her mouth, tied perfectly around her face and it looks tight - her cheeks are indented with the leather. Her hands and feet are restrained with what looks like golden plates circling her wrists and ankles - she couldn't free herself even if she wanted to. Her legs are also held open with a long bar that has handcuffs attached - even the bar has some strange writing on it.

I think the woman looks broken, like she's suffering terminal pain. Surrounding her, painted on the wooden bracket is the Zodiac system - how bizarre? And around the wooden bracket is every single object the woman has on her body - but real objects - they are not painted on. They are perfectly pinned next to each Zodiac sign. There are also whips added between each object - pure white whips with one long band of leather. Fuck me this looks... I don't fucking know, I'm lost for words. It looks like whoever decorated this room has used these objects and the woman to create a pentagram.

"Christian, what is this place?" I whisper flabbergasted.

"Please go in Anastasia." He urges with his hand at the low of my back.

I swallow hard, "I don't think I want this - I don't think I want to go in there."

"I will not hurt you, trust me Princess." He whispers soft from behind me.

I look back to him, peering up with tears pricking my eyes. I walk further into the Devils Realm - I hope I will be okay.

Christian makes me jump - his voice sounds so loud.

"This room is called - The Forbidden Room, Anastasia," he points to the door in front of us, "you are never allowed to enter this room, do you understand?"

"I'm not a moron Christian, of course I understand."

I steal a double take at the forbidden room. Holy shit! I notice small golden eggs painted in gold leaf on every corner of the door. The egg he gave me! It must have something to do with this place!

"Why is that room forbidden?"

"It just is."

I feel a little annoyed while I think over the past evening. Does he think I'm fucking stupid?

"Did you know you would bring me here tonight?"

He looks at me baffled, "no, why?"

"Because you have them keys." I point to his hand. "They are not your usual keys. I saw your office keys when you first unlocked your office door, and I noticed you had a car key on that bunch. You don't have your car key on them."

He stares at me wide-eyed.

"Don't look at me like that Christian, answer the question!" I snap.

"I come here regularly. Sometimes I sleep here, sometimes I come here to indulge in my desires. That is why I have these keys handy. Stop questioning everything Anastasia." He says firm.

Should I believe him? This place is pretty creepy, why on earth would he want to sleep here?

He unexpectedly pushes the door to my right open. I stand almost on the threshold staring, contemplating on whether to enter or not. The first thing I notice is a low - almost dark - orange light reflecting from the room. It dances around my eyes, causing me to feel a strange sense of deceit.

"I'm going to get things ready - you can either stand here or enter the room to prepare yourself. Under no circumstances do you go back out there without me, do you understand?" He stands in front of me. Gazing down at me for some kind of reaction. All I can manage is a questionable stare.

He gently strokes my cheek with his thumb, sliding it all the way down my face to my lower lip. This has to be the first time ever that I don't get a reaction from his touch - why do I feel numb? Now I want Grey flu, need it even! I need to feel something! I need to feel heady, drunk!

He quickly gives up on my rejoinder, I think, and he walks behind me. My eyes follow him. I watch as he locks the door we just entered, turning the key six times. He leaves the keys hanging in the hole - why would he leave them in the door if he doesn't want me to leave without him? Isn't he worried I might run out?

Chapter 14 and Jane Doe's statement will be published on (kindle and paperback) via Amazon ON THE 17 MAY 2014

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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

CHRISTIAN SAUNTERS PAST me into the room. His presence is potent, causing me to suddenly feel heady, dizzy - damn him! He constantly infects me with Grey flu without even realizing. I hold my breath in a personal salvation attempt - I need to stay focused!

I edge closer to the threshold and peer into the darkness. The first thing I notice is a strong smell of lavender, mixed with the cool air. The sweet minty fragrance forces me to immediately relax a little, so I quickly accept the earthy aroma while I take a large gulp of air - yes, I need this, so badly!

Once I feel ready, I scan the room in an attempt to try and prepare myself mentally as Christian requested. It looks dark and secretive, like a private area no one should know about. It's decorated with textures of purple scintillate silk sheets – they hang perfectly from the solid grey stone walls and add a sense of art work. The floor is uneven grey slate - it matches the walls. There is a porcelain white roll top bath that could easily fit four – Christian's kneeling by it, watching the water rise. To say the bath's in an odd position would be an understatement. It's free standing, in the centre of the room, in front of a huge bed that is also covered in messy purple silk sheets. Why is the only colour in this house purple? I expected red!

The bed looks uncomfortable - it appears to float and looks too modern with its sharp dark wooden edges. I feel a sense of medieval, clashed with controlled modernization. Whoever decorated has particular tastes and is extremely illegible.

I gaze further - my curiosity has now peaked. I see two huge wooden pyramid platforms that must be at least seven foot high. They build up in step form with black leather straps attached. The straps have huge shiny gold clasps. Two straps are at the tip of the pyramid - I presume to tie hands above the head - and two are at the bottom, to tie legs apart. One pyramid is attached to the wall on my left, and the other is free standing in the room to my right. Strangely, attached to the slate floor in front of the bath are more leather straps and an outline of a female's body painted in white.

Christian's still kneeling by the bath, watching me intently. I take one calculated step into the room. Christian rises to his feet, looking serious. He's standing very still - he's analysing me now I'm in his space.

My perception of this house and even this room is surreal - I don't know if I'm intrigued by everything or if I'm ready to leave!

"Christian, what is this place?" I whisper, maybe to quiet, I'm worried he cannot hear me.

He gazes at me, tilting his head to one side. "This is called the verboten room, Anastasia."

"I thought the other room was called the forbidden room?" I question.

"That is called the forbidden room, this is called the verboten room. Same meaning via definition but I can assure you, that other room is very different Anastasia."

"Well, it cannot be any worse than this one." I gasp.

"Don't you like it here Anastasia?" He asks. His voice is hoarse, his face is perplexing - did he honestly think I'd like it here?

"It isn't exactly Disney Land, is it? Or maybe it is - maybe it's the Disney Land Of Sex!" I scoff.

He stares at me astonished - his eyes look like they are about to pop out of his head! I quickly ignore his expression, I don't have time for his mental games!

"What are you Christian - are you one of those men who enjoys women as pets?" I ask with a flummoxed mien that I'm sure he's clocked.

He tilts his head to the other side. "I don't label myself with a name. My pleasures are specific and my decision to act upon my cravings are perfectly healthy. And no, I don't see women as pets - I see them as the object of my desire Anastasia."

Wow, that must be the most erotic opinion I have ever heard - object of his desire!

He walks towards me, glides so elegantly. His eyes are luminous, sexy, filled with the low orange light. He stops in front of me and stares down at me. I see deep interest, with a hint of desire as he glowers. What the hell's he thinking?

"Can I touch you, Anastasia?" He whispers.

I start to pant, desperation has become a part of me.

"Yes, yes you can." I say in a low breathless voice.

He gently places his hand on my neck below my chin. He strokes my skin with his index finger. My chest grinds to a halt as my veins are filled with a rush of ecstasy from his touch.

"Do you want me to show you how pleasurable this place can be?" He motions his other hand around the room for me to feast my eyes. I turn in sync with his hand gesture and register all the instruments hanging from the wall behind me.

_Holy shit! _My eyes are agape! I have seen things like this before - in movies and on television - but I never imagined the mental impact of a fucking whip!

"What are they for?" I blurt out. My hands tremble a little and I wonder indecisively whether or not to cover my damn mouth before something else unorthodox comes out of it.

"What? You need to be specific Princess."

He drops his hand to his side. The immediate longing for his touch hits me like a ton of bricks. My burning desire for him is flooding my body with a sensation of... desperation, I think - it must be desperation, who feels loss when the person you yearn for is not touching you? _Get a fucking grip Anastasia, you need to stay focused!_

He walks over to the wall, slowly, with a sense of curiosity. He quickly steel's a glance in my direction. He stops and faces the wall fully.

"Every item is used for something specifically. Tell me what interests you Anastasia."

"That." I point to an odd looking body suit that's made from shiny silver barbwire. It fits the central body and upper legs - like a vest with shorts attached. Jesus it looks painful! I swallow hard as a sudden feeling of worry washes over me.

"That is called The Standing Room _Basque_. It's specially made. I would dress you in it, and if you were to move, it would pinch at your skin - it's main role is to teach you to stand very still while you orgasm."

"Okay," I croak - _discipline freak_, "what about that?" I point my finger towards a deviant black leather mask. Honestly I feel like I'm at BDSM school!

"You know what a gimp mask is, don't you?"

I shake my head - why on earth would I know what a bloody gimp mask is?

"I enjoy a full sense of control Anastasia - but you know that already. If you wore a full gimp suit, you wouldn't be able to move much, you would be completely at my mercy," he smiles and reveals his most dirty expression yet, "and I like the feeling of leather against my skin."

"Oh!" I gasp wide-eyed. No wonder he was laughing at me when I asked him why all of his furniture is made from leather!

"Anything else?" He says.

He turns to look at me. I heed his gaze, paying extra attention to try and evaluate what his purpose in bringing me here is. My cheeks heat, and my system almost crashes with a sudden realization – does he want to tie me up and beat me?

"I think you need to turn the bath off before it over flows." I say trying to change the subject; honestly, the stench of my horror - slash - embarrassment is overwhelming! If he thinks I know anything of BDSM, he's got another thing coming!

He glides towards the bath. His eyes are ablaze, intoxicating - they almost force me to surrender myself. My heart rate picks up to an alarming rhythm - Fuck, I think I'm going to pass out!

"Take your clothes off." He says.

What - did I just hear him right? I have to do a double take. My head thrashes in his direction too hard. I feel my brain jolt, a headache is coming for me.

"Come again?"

He smiles at me, revealing a full set of perfect white teeth.

"Take your clothes off, Anastasia."

"Fuck no!" I snap.

His head shoots upright as he kneels besides the bath. His eyes narrow at me and almost turn black; his lips press into a hard line.

"Anastasia, you made me bring you here - you wanted this, not me. If I have to take your clothes off, I'm not sure I will be able to control myself, I will probably fuck you instantly - and I don't want that, I want to play with you first." He smiles to himself and he lowers his head in confusion. "I should have rephrased my last statement - it's you that is the object of my desire."

I stand open-mouthed. Holy fuck! He wants to play with me? I don't really know what that means but the wetness of my arousal does!

"Trust me, I will never hurt you." He promises.

His words distract me.

"Have you hurt people before - accidently?" I question, hoping for the right answer - I know he hurt Jane Doe but that was at her own request.

"Yes, many times - but it was all consensual, and desired by both parties. I have never accidently hurt someone. Everything I do is very safe and practiced many times Anastasia."

_Well that's good to know!_

"Both parties?" I say quiet, "you make it sound like business as usual."

He stares at me impassively, giving nothing away – damn him! What's he thinking?

"Do you beat women or do women beat you?" I ask.

"I am the master around here Anastasia, no one touches me."

"So you are a Dominant."

"That's not a question."

"Sorry, my bad - are you a dominant?" I scoff shaking my head.

"I am the master, and women enjoy pleasuring me in any which way they can."

I lower my head, wondering how the hell he can be this fucked up?

"Why are you like this?" I blurt out.

"Why is anyone the way they are?"

"That's not an answer, Christian!"

His eyebrows crease as he questions himself - why is it so damn difficult to get a straight answer out of him?

"Do you want to hurt me?" I whisper in a trembling voice.

"No." He says firm, shaking his head with absolution.

"What - not even if I want you to?" I challenge.

"Anastasia, you may receive a few slaps to your beautiful derrière, but that's all. I don't want to hurt you."

_Well, that's appreciated!_

"Christian, what of your wife?"

I'm desperate to know if she did this with him. He doesn't even look at me to visually acknowledge my question, and now I think I have crossed an invisible line. His wife really isn't any of my business - is she?

I shake my head in aggravation. His lack of answers are pissing me off.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" I snap.

"What's wrong Anastasia? Talk to me. I'm not a mind reader and your body is telling me that you feel uncomfortable." He says.

He edges closer to me, slowly. He reaches me and stares down at me with sympathy. He lifts his hand to touch my face but I immediately back away from him; he may see it as fear but I see it as thinking outside of the box. One more touch from him and he becomes the air I need to breathe, the magic that unknowingly removes my clothes - I'm not ready for that just yet.

"Don't do that Anastasia," he warns with a hard face, "don't be scared of me. You know I will not touch you without your consent." He says with deferential eyes.

For a few seconds I want to scoff again, but my memory serves me right - he always asks if he can touch me before he does.

"Christian, I'm not scared of you - I just feel..." I cannot even finish.

"What do you feel Princess?" He whispers.

"I don't know." I lower my head, feeling confused and ashamed by my lack of experience. I breathe a sickening *sigh* that almost gets stuck in my chest.

"Is this right - is this okay for people to indulge in? Because it feels, kinda wrong, to me."

He licks his lips and appears nervous for once. He blinks rapidly, strangely in tune with my heart rate.

"It's not wrong and it's not right - it has to fit the person, Anastasia."

Oh, this is hopeless - that's not a damn answer! I'm scared - not of him - I'm scared of his darkness. I'm scared of how I know I'm going to allow him to do whatever he wants to me.

"Anastasia, if you don't want to do this, I can take you home." He says soft.

I look at him questionably - does he really mean that? Because his offer to take me home confuses me further!

"Do you want to go home?"

"I don't know Christian." I whisper embarrassed.

"Everything will be okay Princess, I promise - I will not hurt you. I want to give you pleasure - not pain."

I look him dead in the eye, knowing I can spot a liar when I see one.

"Do you swear you won't hurt me?"

"I swear on your life." He says. He cocks his head to the left and gazes at me affectionately.

I'm not sure that means much to me - him swearing on my life.

"How can you tell that I look uncomfortable?" I ask. I'm curious about his attention to detail.

He smiles at me and shows a hint of knowledge with one raised eyebrow.

"You bite your nails; I have been meaning to bring it to your attention. That old saying - the eyes are the entrance to ones soul - I believe is wrong. I believe hands are the entrance to ones soul. You touch, sense, show firm body language, all this with only your hands. Your hands tell me that you are extremely uncomfortable with confrontation - and this situation - you haven't stopped nibbling." He sighs long and hard. He's contemplating his next statement. "Anastasia, from now on, every time you bite your nails, I will punish you – it will inevitably be for your own good."

"You can try to punish me, but you won't get very far!" I warn as I take another step back from him.

"Princess, I live for the fight, and your being reluctant to cooperate will make your punishment worse - which only excites me more. So, I look forward to it." He jokes. He winks at me sexually.

Bastard! I will hold my own against the likes of him – or I will try to!

"What else? Recognizing nail biting as signs of stress is not rocket science." I challenge.

"Your upper lip – you constantly lick it when you are questioning a situation. You incessantly tap your foot - which I might add is extremely annoying," he raises his eyebrows and I shoot him a warning expression, "and finally, your eyes. You can never seem to hold my gaze for too long, I know it's because you find me intimidating." He smiles.

"You are very self-assured, aren't you?" I snap while crossing my arms.

"I am."

His answers annoy but intrigue me. His warning to punish me pisses me off to the point of me wanting to create a situation, just to show him that he cannot bully me. But, I also cannot believe he has paid such close attention to my habits. I want him - so badly. I want a man who is self-made, smoking hot, sexually experienced - noted, I would have taken a man a little less experienced but hey, we cannot have it all.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, hoping to get some insight into what will happen.

His eyes are suddenly fiery, incandescent - filled with possibilities. He walks past me and stands flush behind my back. He sensually breathes down my neck. I feel feverish - oh no! I'm suffering with Grey flu again! My tummy quenches with an unknown thirst. I also feel fear, or worry, gathering inside my mind - it makes me almost tremble to the point of no return.

I see his hat fall to the floor, it almost lands on my feet. Everything suddenly feels closer, like every smell, touch and sound makes a difference to how I'm going to sexually react to him.

"Close your eyes." He whispers into my ear. The warmness from his breath almost feels frosted cold compared to my body temperature.

"Why?" I say in an alarming voice - I wanted a mental experience before the physical thing!

"Just do it."

"Ahhh." I gasp breathless.

Chapter 15 and Jane Doe's statement will be published on (kindle and paperback) via Amazon ON THE 17 MAY 2014

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	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

I submit myself to him by closing my eyes. I don't think I'm ready for this, but will I ever be truly ready to lose my virginity? My tummy pangs with a strange drum affect - I think my heart has fallen inside my stomach. My breathing picks up and my mouth waters – what's he going to do to me?

"Christian." I breathe.

"Shhh - listen to my voice Princess. I'm going to place your arms across your chest."

He stands from behind me and takes both of my wrists - I feel the static from his touch, it's overwhelming! He lifts my hands to my neck and crosses them over one another. He slides his fingers across my hands, leaving a sense of loneliness to linger.

Suddenly I don't feel him near me, I don't sense him in my safety zone. I want to open my eyes but I'm too scared.

"Imagine you are in a field that is overflowing with lavender flowers," he whispers, "imagine you can almost feel the violet petals caress your naked skin. You are walking freely with me, side by side. The sun feels warm on your beautiful face, and I feel homely walking besides you. Suddenly you feel my hand on your naked back. Desire floods your system - and mine. You stop with me and peer up at me. You realize you want this as much as I do. My touch lingers on you, even after my fingers are gone."

Holy shit! This is intimately erotic. I start to pant, my veins are thriving off of his intoxication.

"Anastasia, can I touch you?" He whispers.

I lick my wet lips. I crave his touch.

"Yes." I breathe.

Bizarrely, he doesn't touch me, and now I wonder why he even asked if he could?

"Imagine I am holding your small face in my fingers - I am clutching at your chin, forcing you to look up at me again. I release you, and you are fixed in place, compelled by my stare. My fingers are gliding down your chin, now down the centre of your body. You feel the heat from my touch on your chest - my brush feels warmer than the sun against your beautiful translucent skin. I want to kiss you, but all I can manage is a dream of what your lips would feel like against mine. I imagine how sweet you would taste. Can you feel me in front of you, can you feel my breath on your face Anastasia?"

Strangely I can - how the hell is he doing this? I want his touch, I want it so bad that I can almost feel my own hand twitching with desperation.

"Open your eyes." He whispers.

I open them, slowly - I'm not ready to let this image escape from my mind just yet. Once my eyes adjust to the darkness, I'm hit with shock as I see him just inches away from my face! My breath hitches. His eyes burn into me. Desire thickens inside my tummy. Every inch of me is now ready for him.

"I'm ready, what do you want me to do?" I whisper.

"I don't want you to do anything."

Okay, that didn't go as planned. I frown deeply.

"What do you want to do to me?"

He gazes at me with heated eyes. I cannot hold his stare, I feel weak, hormonal. In his hand he's holding a long shiny black controller. He presses play. The most beautiful soulful music fills the room. Otis again, but this time, I've Been Loving You For Too Long, _wow_! How can he and I be so alike when it comes to music?

"I want to gag you, tease you, and make you cum until your body can no longer take it, and then, I want to fuck you until you pass out. I have dreamed about how good you will feel around my dick Anastasia, I need to be inside you." He whispers.

My mouth drops open. I'm shocked, excited, infected with his words - I am officially defeated. How can I come back from that?

He walks behind me and stands almost flush against me. I feel myself let go - mentally, emotionally - and I just allow him to take control. I lean my head back onto his hard chest. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing I have submitted myself to him - his underlining throaty raw sends shivers throughout my body. He slowly runs his fingers down my arms, touching them so gently, savouring the moment. I'm ablaze with sensations as his touch finally burns at my skin through my sweater. He reaches my hands, he takes them in his. He lifts my arms into the air, forcing me to stand in a _Tadasana position_.

"Keep them in place." He orders, "I'm going to take your sweater off."

He tugs at the hem of my sweater. He quickly takes it off in one swift motion - it doesn't even catch my face. I watch it effortlessly fall to the ground next to his hat. I'm now standing in only my white lace bra and jeans. I quickly lower my arms and almost sink into myself as a cold damp rush hits my chest.

"Look at you. You are so beautiful and innocent Anastasia. I need to be inside you." He whispers.

He starts trailing feather light kisses from my ear to the edge of my lips. He never touches my lips with his, he only reaches a safe distance - safe enough for him. I lean my head to the side, giving him more access to my skin. I try to turn and face him, but he quickly and firmly grabs my arms. His fingers are so cold and unsympathetic. His nails dig into my flesh.

"Stay still and close your eyes." He orders.

He releases me from his tight grip. I do as I'm told by closing my eyes.

I feel something slide across my lips. I think it's silk. The soft material repeatedly caresses my lips - almost making them swell - sliding back and forth, back and forth, mentally torturing me, until finally, he pulls it tight - maybe too tight - and he ties it at the back of my head, forcing it into my mouth. I grip the silk with my teeth, not out of choice, but out of force.

"Now you cannot talk, you will have to trust me Anastasia. Do you trust me? Nod if you do."

I nod willingly but question myself - do I trust him? I must if I'm allowing him to have my virginity!

"If you cannot take anymore, use this hand signal."

I quickly open my eyes to see his signal. His hand is held out in a star shape - his fingers are so long, his hand looks so strong as his veins almost pop out of his skin.

"Do you understand?"

I nod again and my anxiety levels shoot through the roof - what won't I be able to take?

_He said if you cannot take anymore, stupid!_

"Good girl. Keep your eyes closed for now."

I close my eyes once more and try to rely on my sense of sound - it's difficult though, the music is off putting. He pushes me back until I reach the wall - every step I take is with exaggerated anticipation.

"I am going to lift you off of the ground and place you on the triangle platform on the wall Anastasia - then I will tie your hands above your head - don't be scared."

Hester's words come rushing back to me. 'You should stay away from him, he is dangerous.'

Oh no! I start breathing hard, my anxiety levels are again reaching an all new high as everything else vanishes. My sense of taste and vision, gone like the wind - all I'm left with is my not so clear hearing.

He snakes one cold arm around my waist. I suddenly feel his naked chest pressed hard against me - he's removed his shirt! Holy shit! Why can't I open my eyes? At least just to see him! Desire pools around in my tummy, causing the deepest parts of me to swim in anticipation - fuck I want to touch him!

He effortlessly lifts me off of the ground with one arm - almost crushing me against him. His spicy scent is strong and overpowering. I gladly allow myself to become head drunk.

His hard muscles feel heavenly against my skin - I almost convulse at the sudden contact! He pushes me against the cold wooden triangle - it pricks at my back. The cool sensation causes me to recognize my heated dampness between my legs. I want to squeeze my legs together to feel my wetness more - this has never happened to me before!

"Lift your hands into the air Princess."

I obey his order and lift both of my hands in sync. He firstly grabs my left hand and pushes it between the cool leather strap. He ties the strap around my wrist using only one of his hands. He repeats the same act with my other hand until I'm trussed in the air. He grabs my left foot and takes my shoe off, slowly.

"Place your feet on the steps, otherwise you will have to hold your own weight."

I do as he says, but I have to stand on my tippy toes. He repeats the same act with my other foot. The steps are appreciated, but they also dig into my back because they step all the way up to the top of the triangle, like a real pyramid. I wonder if the platform is built like this to cause people to feel Spartan?

I suddenly feel his hand flat against my stomach. He performs gentle strokes, causing my tummy to quiver involuntary - my desperate moans come in sync with my quivering stomach.

"You're so soft, and beautiful. I want to cause love bruises all over your skin from my kisses." He whispers.

Jesus, I hope he's metaphorically speaking!

I feel his heated lips touch my tummy - they feel full, swollen. He glides just above my jeans, licking and kissing and sucking.

He moans against me. "Oh, Anastasia - what the fuck have you done to me?"

A strange heat suddenly infects my nervous system between my legs - a rush of ecstasy hits my clitoris, forcing me to feel a strange sense of euphoria.

"Oh Christian." I beg in mumbles - for what, I don't know, but what I do know is, I want some kind of release.

He gently unbuttons my jeans, popping them open with ease.

"These are coming off." He whispers while his tongue trails down the centre of my tummy. Holy shit! The wetness of his saliva leaves cold damp spells on my skin. I wince in desperation - I want more, I want him to touch my sex, so badly!

His tongue follows his fingers down my legs as he pulls my jeans off. I'm now standing in only my lace bra and thongs! He reaches my feet and kisses each of my toes, elongating his kiss on my pinkie toe - I never realized how good foot foreplay feels! He lifts my feet, one by one so he can dispense of my jeans. His grip is tight, his hands are huge and cover almost every inch of my feet. Once he finally removes my jeans, I feel naked, completely exposed.

"You will like this Princess." He whispers.

He unexpectedly scrapes his thumb nail down the sole of my foot, slowly but with force.

"Fuck!" I mumble.

That hurts but feels good! What the hell? A strange pang hits me right in the centre of my clitoris - oh my! Please do that again! I beg mentally.

He runs his hands back up my legs, slowly, seductively, leaving a lingering sensation of desire all over my skin. I'm dying to feel his skilled hands on my sex! Oh, God! What's happening to me?

Once he reaches my hips, he strangely tugs at my panties, pulling them to just beneath my backside - this feels a little intimate, I would prefer to be naked. I feel his face flat against my tummy while his hands are firmly holding my backside. He brushes his face against me, slowly, heading south of me. His stubbly cheeks scratch at my skin - I feel the itchy pricks with extra awareness now that I'm a bag of sensations.

He startles my brain, my nerves, but most of all, my arousal system. He completely covers my sex with his mouth.

"Shit!" I curse breathless.

He breathes into my sex over my panties - my clitoris feels the heat before the rest of my body registers what's happening! Oh my God - this feels so damn good!

While I'm mentally folding into nothing but the definition of euphoria, he unexpectedly rips my panties down my legs - pulling them off with brutal force - not mirroring his gentle action of removing my jeans.

"Ahhh!" I scream at the sudden shock.

I think he's mentally torturing me with fear. I squeeze my legs together as I try to protect myself from his vicious attack. Shit I feel slick, juicy wet! My arousal is almost dripping down my thighs! Crap this is embarrassing, why am I so damn wet?

"Don't be scared Princess." He whispers.

_Don't be scared!_ _How about I truss you in the air and completely drown you in darkness? Let's see how you like it!_

I breathe in my nose and out of my mouth while I try to collect myself. Shit I'm so nervous - why did he do that, why did he so viciously rip my panties off?

I suddenly feel his fingers slide between my sex. He starts rubbing and circling my clitoris. Holy fucking shit. My legs voluntarily open a little, giving him access to the private parts of me as I succumb to my sexual desires.

"Ahhh!" I cry out.

"Fuck me Anastasia, you are dripping wet, and you are bald! My day couldn't possibly get any better!" He says while he continues to massage me.

Embarrassment washes over me - why would he be shocked that I'm bald? I thought every woman these days has a full wax?

My mind blanks as a feeling of ecstasy grows inside me. I start to worry because I feel an unfamiliar build gathering inside my sex. It's delicious and all consuming. It forces me to tense, forces me to grab the feeling that's going to break free of me any minute now.

"Please, oh please!" I beg.

His fingers are so skilled - I have to think of a way to constantly have them on me!

He stops his relentless massaging and grabs my ankles with both of his hands. He forces my legs open, and suddenly, his mouth is covering me.

Oh my fucking God! All air is knocked out of me. Skin to skin contact - this is beyond words! His tongue is divine - torturing even! His lips feel so swollen against me. I can feel myself on the brink of exploding - oh God! This cannot be happening! How can something so bad, feel so damn good!

"Oh please." I beg, jumbling my words through my gag, still not knowing why. What's happening to me?

"That's it Princess, that's what you want - let yourself go, cum for me, Anastasia!"

My eyes involuntarily spring open. I notice my vision is blurry, and I feel hot, too hot! Something doesn't feel right. My breathing comes faster, as does the igniting sensation.

"Christian, what's happening to me?" I beg as worry forces my system to crash.

An magnificent explosion takes a hold of all my sanity - unmistaken heat and generous amounts of tickles flood my sex. This is the climax, this is what people seek, a stupendous involuntary sensation that is more than heaven itself! Oh my, I need this every damn day!

"Christian!" I scream through my gagged lips as the final blow comes. "Ahhh!"

Jesus, it's not stopping, my orgasm's not stopping! Holy shit! He had better stop that before I pass out!

I fall into him, limp and almost lifeless. I feel his lips turn into a smile against the queen of my sex as he enjoys unfolding me. He suddenly stops and my body mirrors his action. I allow my head to fall back as I gather myself. He places one last chaste kiss on the queen of my sex, gently.

"Are you okay?" He whispers.

I achingly lift my head to meet his beautiful electric blue eyes - _wow_ he looks like lust itself! He's puce, beautiful, and his lips glisten with my arousal. I nod my head with all that I have and thankfully he notices how tired I am. He smiles affectionately at me, triumphant to.

I let my head fall limp again, I need rest.

"Did you like that Princess?"

I achingly nod and only wish I had the energy to scream, YES I FUCKING DID LIKE THAT - LOVED IT IN-FACT!

"Now you will be forced into darkness." He says.

Okay, now I'm awake. I lift my head again, quicker than before, but it's too late. He covers my eyes with a blindfold and this time, I cannot even see a shadow of light. I'm completely flooded with darkness. My heart rate picks up and my blood pumps too fast throughout my system. My heady dizziness feels more real in the darkness. I have nothing to stabilize my mind while it endlessly spins. I think I'm drunk, drunk on sexual sensations and lust!

He turns up the music - he's had it on repeat - it's so damn loud!

He comes right up to my ear and whispers, "remember your safe symbol Anastasia?"

I nod, stressed and confused. I think he's making it deliberately hard for me to concentrate with everything going on - the music, his magical fingers, his intoxicating mouth!

All of a sudden, he takes my legs - one at a time, and he ties them apart so I'm completely accessible to him. He clasps them inside the leather straps at the bottom of the pyramid. I shake my head to try and stop him but he ignores my silly request. Once I'm trussed up completely, I suddenly hear loud clicking that completely grabs my attention - the sound hits my ears harder than the music.

"What's that?" I mumble, but he ignores me.

I feel a quick unorthodox pinch on my tummy.

"Ahhh!" I scream.

I'm not sure if that hurt or if it was the initial shock! It happens again, but this time it's above my breast.

"Christian!" I almost shout.

He quickly pulls my bra up above my breasts and they instantly swell. Oh, my nipples feel sore and he hasn't even touched them!

He squeezes my left nipple between his fingers, just once, and so quickly.

"Fuck, gently!" I mumble.

Jesus, everything's happening so damn quickly!

He pinches my nipple again, but before I can have ago at him, his mouth is covering me.

"Hmmm." He moans against me.

He elongates my nipple with his delightful sucks. Oh that feels good but strangely cold - it's like he's had ice in his mouth.

A harder pinch suddenly shocks the living daylights out of me. It hits me just above my sex. I buck forward into him. He releases my breast, but slaps it, hard!

"I hope you're ready for this Princess."

Ready? Ready for what?

He starts to fucking torture me! Pinch after pinch assaults my body but never in the same place. He pinches each breast with his fingers, then with the clicking toy, then he slaps my nipples - one after the other, never in sync. I suddenly feel pinching at my sex, hitting me right on my clitoris and the pain is too much - it's almost unbearable! I scream so damn loud that every fucking person in this building must hear me!

"Stop, please Christian, stop." I beg.

I hand signal him. I fall limp, I feel defeated. Whatever he was holding falls to the floor with a loud thud. He quickly removes my gag with trembling hands.

"Are you okay Princess?" He asks worried.

"No, please stop. I'm a virgin. I can't do this Christian."

He's silent, motionless even. I cannot see but I know he's still standing in front of me, I can sense him like I always can.

"Please say something Christian."

He gently takes my blindfold off and looks utterly broken. His eyes are wide, his mouth is set in a grim hard line. He looks inanimate, sadly inanimate. Oh no!

He unclasps my legs first, then my hands. I almost fall into him, but he catches me in his arms. He lifts me and cradles me. He does feel homely, strangely. I clutch at his neck while he holds me. He quickly carries me over to the messy purple bed. He sits in the middle of the bed with me still in his arms,

"Please forgive me for almost steeling your innocence Anastasia. I am so, so sorry." He whispers in a broken voice.

"Don't be sorry Christian, this was just a little too much for my first time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He snaps.

"It's not a hot topic - why would I just tell you something like that?"

"Fuck Anastasia, I knew you were innocent but Jesus Christ. Have I hurt you?" He asks.

He takes my chin between his fingers. He forces me to look up at him. I feel embarrassed now that I can see his face - this man wants me, God knows why but he wants me - and I have totally fucked it up.

"No, you haven't hurt me. Honest, I'm fine, just a little weirded out, that's all."

"You have to leave. Your job, here, you have to leave, Anastasia."

My heart sinks. My mouth drops open. All the joyful sensations mixed with fear vanish and just become... fear.

"Why? Can we not take things slower? We have moved to the next stage within days Christian, you have to understand."

"I will not take your virginity Anastasia. You deserve better than me."

I try to get up but he holds on to me.

"So, if I were a fucking slut you would want me? Is that what you are saying?" I snap.

He shakes his head in defeat.

"I don't know, I just cannot be the one who takes your innocence away Anastasia. I am fucked up, I do not want to take you down with me."

"Let me go." I snap. Fire flairs within my tummy as rage seeps through my pours.

He gets up off of the bed and forces, "wait here. My driver will come for you and I will have your things sent to you from your office."

"Christian, please don't do this." I beg with tears in my eyes.

"Please don't cry Princess. You have to understand, I'm doing this for you."

"No you are not!" I scream. I run towards him, aiming to punch him into his hard chest. He grabs my hands and pulls me close to him. He kisses my cheek, tenderly.

"I am sorry, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then don't do this, please Christian. You make me feel dirty for being a virgin when I saved my virginity for a reason." I beg with watery eyes.

"It's not mine to take. I have so many Dark Layers, I will not add your innocence to the list."

He lets me go. He pushes me onto the bed and I fall back.

"Christian, if you do this, there is no going back!" I warn.

"Goodbye Anastasia." He says.

He walks over to the door and stops for a few seconds.

"Christian." I whisper.

He doesn't look around, he opens the door and walks fast through it, slamming it shut.

My breathing becomes rapid as a result of my panic. My mouth dries, my heart pounds. I quickly get to my feet and run up to the door in double time. I grab the handle and turn it but it doesn't move. Fuck, he's locked it!

"Open this door, now Christian!" I scream. I start banging hard, begging someone - anyone - to let me out. No one comes, no one is on the other side.

TIME PASSES SO SLOWLY; I sit for hours, lonely and broken, completely shattered into a thousand pieces. Christian's words play on repeat, tormenting me.

'It does not matter how long we have known one another, what matters is, love, passion, life and living. All these things are what matter, regardless of how long it took to get them. Time is just another journey we will take together.'

If he truly believed this, then he wouldn't be walking out on me! I mentally tell myself this over and over again, hoping to ease this strange pain - loss. Why the hell am I so hurt? He's consuming and gorgeous, that I understand, but my feelings for him, I don't understand them at all.

I break down by the door desperately crying.

"Please come back." I sob.

I'm mentally haunted by him - I need him, I want him. Why has he done this to me?

_**Until**_ **(Volume 2)**


	16. Many Thanks

Dark Layers

Volume 1

Is now released on Amazon (kindle edition & paperback)

On this revised version you will be able to read Jane Doe's statement! I hope you all enjoy it ;-)

Although I cannot answer all comments and messages, I just want to thank everyone who is supporting me with my writing. It is you that gives me the willpower to write, and for that, I think you all.

A L Gray xxx


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